


Dreamscape

by Mizuni_no_neko



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Human, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-10-13
Updated: 2013-10-13
Packaged: 2017-12-29 07:56:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 39,293
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1002902
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mizuni_no_neko/pseuds/Mizuni_no_neko
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Alfred Jones, a high school kid with few worries and a taste for adventure, finds himself sucked into a nightmare world filled with danger and all the adventure he ever wanted and more. Teaming up with Ivan, a Russian man from Chicago who's spent the last four years honing his survival skills, will Alfred be able to get out alive? And what does his comatose mother have to do with any of this?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Just gonna leave this here

Have you ever heard the saying that if you die in your dreams, you die in real life? I've found that it's not entirely true. Usually before you die in a dream, you wake up. But sometimes, when the things in your nightmares turn out to be more real than you expected, you can't wake up, you can't escape, but you sure as hell can die.

Alfred Jones shot up out of bed, breath heaving and eyes wide with panic. He looked around, not knowing where he was for the first few seconds or where the giant worm that had been chasing him went. But slowly it dawned on him that he was safe in his own bedroom and it had all been just another dream. He cursed and swung his legs out from under the sheets, stumbling forward into the bathroom to start another day.

He'd been having the same dream for a week now. He'd go to sleep, wake up in some kind of forest, and from there the memories got fuzzy. But the ending was the same every time. He'd end up being chased through the woods by some creature until he woke up feeling like he'd run a mile. Then from there his days were relatively normal. Shower, get dressed, go to school, hang with friends, go home, go to bed, and have the dream again.

He was getting sick of it, actually. Not the dreams, the monotony. In fact, the dreams were the only things he looked forward to after a long day of doing exactly what he did every other day. He knew he was destined for something greater than high school. Some big adventure that he didn't even know about yet. He could feel it. But in his dreams was the only place he ever got to live out any kind of adventure. Unless you counted keeping Francis' hands out of his pants, now that was an adventure.

He stepped out of the shower in a cloud of steam, toweling his hair off. He tried to remember what had happened that night, concentrating so hard on what little he remembered that he almost ran into his father.

"Look out where you're going, Al, you could get hurt." Matthew said, laughing softly and patting his son on the head. Matthew was a quiet man who seemed to take up much less space than he actually did. He was quite used to people running into him by now, only Alfred was usually more in tune with his surroundings than that. Not that he usually showed it. His head was always in the clouds, that one. Dreaming of the next big thing that he would do. Whether it was the time he tried to build an ornithopter in the back yard a few summers ago, or joining the football team his freshman year. But Matthew knew his son had his feet on the ground. He may dream big, but he knew he had to plan his dreams out.

But here lately, the boy had been staring off into space with a look on his face that troubled Matthew. It wasn't his planning face, his day-dream face, or even his "I'm-hungry-but-I-don't-want-to-get-up" face. Matthew wasn't sure what Alfred was thinking about, but the boy looked troubled by it. Matthew knew better than to ask, but he wished Alfred would just tell him what was wrong. Al usually told him everything, especially since what had happened to his mother.

"Sorry, dad. Wasn't really paying attention." Alfred said, grinning sheepishly and rubbing the back of his head. "Hey, you think you could give me a ride to school? I don't really wanna take the bus today." He asked, looking hopefully at his dad. How could Matthew say no to that look?

"Sure thing. Hop in the car, I'll be out in a minute." He said, tousling his son's hair and heading to the kitchen for a cup of coffee and his keys. By the time he got back into the livingroom, Alfred was already out in the car waiting for him. He got in and started it up, turning to Alfred as he backed out of the driveway. "So what's up?" He asked, trying to sound like he wasn't on to him.

Alfred just shrugged and bit at his thumbnail, obviously lost in thought again. He wasn't getting anything out of the kid, that was for sure. He sighed inwardly and decided that if Alfred needed his help with anything he knew that he could come to him no matter what happened. And he would have to be okay with just that. "Just...you know I love you, Al. Remember that." He said, sending Alfred an almost pleading look.

Alfred knew his dad wanted him to tell him what was wrong, but where could he start? "Hey dad, I've been having these weird dreams..." That would sound retarded! And besides, it wasn't really a problem, per se. He was getting enough sleep, doing well in school, and the dreams weren't really effecting his personal life. They just weirded him out a bit, was all. He couldn't tell his dad about them, he had enough trouble on his plate without something stupid like this.

"Yeah dad, I love you too." He said, smiling over at his father as they stopped outside of the school. He leaned over the seat and pulled his dad into a hug before shouldering his backpack and clambering out of the car. "Have a good day at work, dad!" He called, waving goodbye before turning on his heel an jogging into the building.

"You have a good day at school, Al!" Matthew called back. He stalled for a second in the parking lot, watching him go with a stormy look on his face. Whatever was troubling Alfred was worse than he was letting on, he could tell.

.-.~.-.~.-.~.-.~.-.~.-.~.-.~.-.~.-.~.-.~.-.~.-.~.-.~.-.~.-.

Alfred strode into homeroom and immediately plopped down next to Gilbert. He was the only one of his friends that had homeroom with him and he'd be damned if he was going to be stuck in some corner of the classroom all by his lonesome because someone else took the seat next to him.

"Hey, sunshine, how'd you sleep?" He asked, alluding to the dreams Alfred had been having. "Remember anything this time?" Alfred shook his head.

"No more than usual. Although this time it was a giant worm." He said, making a disgusted face. He didn't really mind worms, but there was a time and a place for everything. And a worm's place was in the garden or in a bait can. Not chasing him through his dreams. Gilbert snickered and leaned back in his desk.

"Maybe it was the worm you ate in third grade back for its revenge." He teased. Alfred felt his ears burn at the reminder.

"Hey! I was just a kid! And what about you? I seem to remember a certain Prussian albino eating a slug." He reminded him. When you'd known someone your whole life, you ended up having a lot of dirt on them.

"Yeah, for five dollars! You just ate the worm on a dare. Seriously, dude, no one would have faulted you for just saying no." He laughed.

"Yeah, well I doubt it was that particular worm. It was huge and had big razor teeth." He said, trying to change the subject. "A big gaping hole rimmed with rows and rows of razor teeth." He shuddered a bit at the memory.

"Maybe it's your subconscious fear of vagina." Gilbert snickered. Alfred scoffed and punched his arm. Alfred wasn't exactly broadcasting the fact that he wasn't interested in girls; but he wasn't exactly in the closet, either.

"Real mature, Gil. Make a gay joke. But it wasn't a vagina, it was a worm. If anything, worms are more like cocks." He told him, rolling his eyes.

"So now you're afraid of cock? Damn, dude, how are you ever going to lose that v card of yours?" Gilbert teased further, obviously not going to take the bait and change the subject. He was like a dog with a bone when it came to annoying people. He fed off of it.

"First of all, I'm not afraid of cock. Second of all, I wasn't planning on losing it. Third of all, can we talk about the dreams and not my sex life?" He asked, exasperated.

"Or lack thereof." Gilbert shot back. He always had to have the last word in. "But yeah, the dreams. You said they started a week ago?" He asked. Alfred nodded and leaned back in his chair.

"Yeah, a week ago tonight. Same scenario, different monster. I dunno what the deal is with it, you know? All I want is to know what it means. Maybe I should go to a shrink." He had contemplated visiting a psychiatrist more than once, but it seemed like a lot of trouble to go through for some dumb dreams. Gilbert seemed to think about it for a minute, staring right at him like he was examining him for any little chink in his mental armor.

"You think it has something to do with what happened to your mom?" He asked, taking Alfred off guard. He stared back at him, jaw slack and eyes wide. If there was one unspoken rule in their group of friends it was that you never never brought up Alfred's mom.

Three years ago when they were Freshman, Alfred's mother had gone to sleep one night next to her husband. But something went wrong and the next morning, no matter how hard they tried, they couldn't wake her up. Somehow while she was sleeping, Belle Jones had gone into a coma. For a few days the doctors watched her, doing all they could. But as days turned into weeks and then into months, each doctor slowly gave up on her. They repeatedly told Alfred and Matthew that there was nothing they could do for her and that she'd either wake up on her own or never wake up at all. Matthew and Alfred had been devastated, but both refused to give up. They picked up the pieces and went on with their lives, but a corner of their existence was always occupied by thoughts of Belle. They never stopped thinking about her, not for a second.

"Dude...if that's supposed to be a joke, it wasn't funny." He whispered, looking down at the top of the desk like it was the most interesting thing in the world. He still refused to give up hope that one day his mom would wake up and everything would be fine. He wasn't grieving because she wasn't dead! How many times did he have to tell everyone that!

"I wasn't joking, Al. Even if she's not dead, it can't be easy not having your mom around. I know that just about as well as anyone." Gilbert's own mother had passed when he was a small child. It was just him, his brother Luwig, and their father. Alfred knew he should be grateful that his mom was still alive, even if she was a vegetable. But in some ways, that just made it harder. "And the way you bottle it up, like everything's fine and it doesn't effect you...it's not good for you."

"Gilbert, can we please not talk about this." He begged, trying to curl in on himself. He hated talking about what happened to his mother. He could still feel the curious stares sometimes when his back was turned and every once in a while he'd hear intrigued whispers. There goes that kid. Yeah, the one whose mom went into a coma for no reason. I heard the doctors have given up hope.

"Maybe you should see that shrink after all, sunshine. You're going insane if you're being chased by a giant worm. I mean, really? They eat dirt." He scoffed, immediately doing a 180 on the subject. It was almost as if they'd turned back time to before Gilbert even mentioned his mom. But that wasn't so unusual. Gil might not be so good at the emotional stuff, and he might like annoying people, but he knew how to avoid an awkward situation. Alfred would give him that.

"I'm totally not crazy!" He cried, punching him on the shoulder.

"Sure you aren't." He rolled his eyes, grinning at his friend. Disaster successfully averted. He wouldn't have known what to do if the big oaf has started crying, anyway.

.-.~.-.~.-.~.-.~.-.~.-.~.-.~.-.~.-.~.-.~.-.~.-.~.-.~.-.~.-.

When Alfred got home that night after football practice, all he wanted to do was shower and hit the hay. But there was one more stop to make before he got that far. Instead of going straight home, he caught a cab up to the long term care hospital on the outskirts of town. He payed the driver to wait there for him and went in. He'd been there so many times that the nurse didn't even ask him which room he was for, she already knew.

"Back so soon, Al? You've been visiting her more often lately." Nurse Erika remarked, smiling shyly at the young man. She was a pretty, shy woman in her late twenties that was always sweet to the patients and their visitors. Her brother, Vash, was the doctor in charge of the ward where his mother was kept. He was a bit less sweet, but he was nice under the brusque exterior. And he took good care of Al's mom.

"Hey, Erika! Yeah, I dunno. I just feel like if I don't come often I'll miss her waking up, you know?" He said, sheepishly. "And before you start, I know it's unlikely to happen. But I just have this feeling, you know? Like something going to happen. And it doesn't hurt to come see her. Comatose or not, she's still my mother." Erika smiled softly and nodded.

"I'm sure that wherever she is in there, if she knows you're coming to see her then she's happy to see you." She said. Alfred liked that about her. She said just the right thing so that you didn't feel like a loser, but she still didn't lie to make you feel better. He waved goodbye and passed the desk, greeting Doctor Vash on his way into his mother's room.

He closed the door softly behind him, turning towards the bed and smiling sadly. His mother lay pale and weak on the bed, short blonde hair spilling out around her on the pillow. Obviously she'd been turned recently, because no one had tucked it back behind her headband. He reached over to adjust it and smiled.

"There you go, mom. I know you hate getting your hair in your face." He told her, taking her hand and squeezing. "I had the dream again last night. Giant worm this time. Gilbert thinks that it has something to do with you, but I don't know if I believe that. Or, maybe it does and he's just wrong about why you're involved. Because I'm not giving up on you. Never, not even if three more years pass." He rasped, voice cracking as he brought her hand up to his lips. "I love you mom. Please come back. I don't know what to do without you. Dad pretends he's okay, but you can tell he's still a wreck. He's still in love with you, you know? I don't even want to think what's going to happen when I leave for college and he's all alone in that house." Alfred broke down crying, burying his face in his mother's stomach like he had when he was a small child.

He didn't know what had come over him. Usually when he came to visit his mom he would update her on how things were going, talk about a few of his projects, and say goodbye before heading home. Maybe it was the confusion over the dreams, or the talk with his dad that morning. Maybe it was the conversation with Gilbert. All he knew was that he lay there crying for a good ten minutes, clinging to his unresponsive mother for support. When he was finally done he wiped his eyes and stood up.

"It was good talking with you, mom. I'll be back soon, I promise. I love you." He bent over and kissed her cheek, letting himself out of the hospital room quietly. He waved tiredly to the Zwingli siblings and trudged out of the hospital, climbing in the cab and riding home.

All he wanted to do now was go to sleep and forget everything in one of those weird dreams. At least they always took his mind off of his real problems.

.-.~.-.~.-.~.-.~.-.~.-.~.-.~.-.~.-.~.-.~.-.~.-.~.-.~.-.~.-.

Alfred woke up in the forest again, surrounded by trees with no end in sight and not even a sliver of sky breaking through the canopy. It was murky and dark and a thick fog seemed to permeate the whole forest. Alfred's theory was that he was in Mirkwood, he just had no way to confirm it. He always woke up right here, lying in the middle of a pathway through the trees with no one and nothing else in sight.

He got up off of the ground and tried to decide which way to go. It never really mattered in the end, because he always came across some monster or another and that was where the dream would end. But he liked having choices, and he liked making them. So while he may go right one night, he would go left the next. One time he'd even disregarded the path altogether and gone straight into the trees. That had ended about as well as would be expected.

Unbeknownst to him, while he was making his decision a disembodied smile had appeared in the trees behind him. It was followed shortly by a huge pair of bright yellow cat eyes, but nothing else. "Oh dear. It seems to me that you might be lost, dear boy."

Alfred turned, almost jumping out of his skin when he saw the floating face. "What the hell! Don't fucking sneak up on me like that! And appear all the way, while you're at it. Thanks." He said sarcastically. "And I'm not lost, I'm dreaming. But it figures I'd dream about the fricking Cheshire cat." He grumbled. "All I have to do is pick a direction and go. I'll wake up soon enough."

"I'm afraid it doesn't work like that anymore, Alfred Jones." The cat said, head and tail appearing. The ghostly tail started flicking around as Cheshire purred. "We have you now, and there's only one way to escape." He chuckled and turned over on his back, the rest of his body appearing.

"How do you know my name? And what do you mean, it doesn't work like that? All I have to do is go until I find a monster, get chased, and wake up." He stated.

"But my dear boy, that's exactly what I mean. You're trapped here. You can't wake up any more than you can disappear." He told him, everything but his eyes disappearing to demonstrate his point. "You see, we have a little game for you to play. You make it through the forest and we will let you go home, safe and sound, to your darling Papa." He purred, appearing in a swirl of smoke on Alfred's shoulder. Alfred narrowed his eyes and turned to the Cheshire cat.

"And if I don't?" He growled. He didn't trust this cat for one minute, even if it was a dream. He had no intention of playing this game. He would do what he did every night and be back in his bed by the time morning rolled around and he woke up.

"Have you ever heard the saying that if you die in a dream, you die in real life?" He cat goaded. But Alfred jut scoffed.

"So you're saying that if I get killed by a monster, I'll die in real life. What happens if I refuse to play? If I don't die, but I don't make it to the other side?" He asked, raising an eyebrow. The Cheshire care merely chuckled, disappearing piece by piece until only his toothy grin remained.

"Why don't you ask your mother?" He said, smile disappearing and disembodied laughter reverberating off of the trees. "Oh, and by the way? Let me be the first to welcome you to the Dreamscape." Alfred stared at the place the cat had been in shock. His mother? What did his mom have to do with any of this? Maybe Gilbert was right and the dreams were his subconscious trying to tell him something about his mother.

He picked a path at random, no longer able to stand around where the confrontation had taken place. He strode purposefully down the left path, brow furrowed in thought and eyes hard. What was up with everyone mentioning his mom today? First Gil, then the stupid cat. He didn't need any of their stinking advice.

He was so lost in his own reveries that he almost didn't hear the scuttle of insect legs through the underbrush. But the creature stepped on a twig, the snap echoing through the silent woods like a gunshot. Alfred turned just in time to see a giant spider bearing down on him at top speeds. He ran, not even thinking about it. What was he going to do, stay and fight the thing? Besides, he would be waking up soon.

But the spider was gaining and he still hadn't woken up! He tried dodging into the trees, weaving between the trunks to lose the beast. But this was its home and it was much better acquainted with it than Alfred was. He couldn't manage to shake the thing no matter how fast he ran. He was starting to get out of breath now and he wasn't sure how much farther he could run before he gave out.

He broke through the line of trees into a clearing and raced across it, praying that the spider would stay in the cover of the forest. But he was wrong and the spider broke through only a few paces behind him. He turned to look, his heart leaping to his throat as he saw how close behind the spider was. Turning around to see ended up being the biggest mistake he could make as he stumbled and fell, skinning his palms on the sharp rocks as he went down.

As he stared up at the gaping jaws of the spider, he realized that this wasn't a dream anymore.


	2. Chapter 2

He stared up into the gaping jaws of the spider, fangs dripping with poison and pure hatred in eight beady eyes. This was really it, wasn't it? He was going to die here with no way to get word to his father about what had happened. Matthew would wake up in the morning to find his son dead. Goodbye cruel world, indeed. He shut his eyes and raised his arm in front of his face like a shield, waiting for the paralyzing bite that would seal his fate.

Only...it never came.

Just as he had said his prayers and made his peace with God (sending up an extra prayer for his father), he felt a rush of wind go past his ear and a sort of squishy thud. He tentatively opened his eyes to see a fucking broadsword embedded in the side of the spider. He would deny it to the end of his existence, but he shrieked as he scrambled away, getting clear just as the spider collapsed where he'd been laying not moments before.

He looked around, head swivelling wildly as he searched for the origin of the three foot hunk of steel piercing through the spider's carcass. He expected some seven foot tall knight in shining armor standing there in a halo of light with a gleaming white battle horse standing in the background as inexplicable waves crashed despite being miles from the nearest ocean.

What he got instead was a man towering over him in worn, tattered leather who looked more like an Aragorn style ranger than any kind of knight. Proud, strong features framed by silver hair and piercing violet eyes. He couldn't deny that the man was handsome and the whole "saving your life" thing could definitely become a turn on. But he was looking at him like he was some sort of weak little worm not worth saving.

He got up off of the ground, flashing him a smile and holding out his hand. "Yo, man, thanks for that. The name's Alfred. What's yours?" He asked, waiting for the man to respond. His smile fell as the man just grunted and turned away. Alfred frowned as his arm fell back to his side. "Hey! I'm talking to you!' He growled, following after him as he melted back into the tree cover.

Somehow he managed not to lose the taller man as he weaved in and out of the trees. "Come on, slow down! Aren't you even going to tell me your name!" He called, jogging to keep up with longer strides. The man didn't answer, but Alfred was never one to give up easily. "Hey! You can't just save a guy's like and run off!" He growled, running up to cut the guy off. "What is your problem!"

"I am not answering you because I want you to go away." He said gruffly, spearing Alfred with a glare. Instead of being intimidated by it and backing down, Alfred found himself staring into those eyes. The guy may be a dick, but he was a hot dick. And that accent! Was he Russian or something?

"Well that's too bad. Because now that you've said that, I'm not going anywhere." He told him, crossing his arms and standing squarely in his path. "Besides, there's no fucking way I'm going off into this forest on my own. Not until I find a way to wake up."

"Look...Alfred, is it? We're all trying to find a way out. The humans, at least. You're not going to find a way out by following me around any more than you are on your own. So I suggest you get out of my way." He said, crossing his arms and squaring off with the blonde.

"Yeah, but I'm more likely to stay alive." He pointed out, not barging an inch. He wasn't going to let this guy go without even telling him his name. "Listen, how about this. I pick up a weapon somewhere, you teach me how to use it, and the second I can take care of myself I'll split." He compromised, blocking the man's path as he tried to move around him. "Come on, obviously you give a shit if I live or die or you wouldn't have saved my ass back there. Can you really live with yourself knowing you dumped me in the middle of a forest filled with monsters without even a weapon?" He asked, doing his best puppy dog eyes.

The man regarded him carefully, violet eyes scoping him out like he was appraising some item that he was trying to decide the value of. If there had even been a hint of lust it might have been sexy. But, as it was, Alfred just felt like he wasn't quite cutting it. But he squared his shoulders and looked him straight in the eyes. The man smirked and Alfred felt his inner voice let out a breath of relief.

"Ivan Braginsky. Have you ever used a sword?" He asked. Alfred raised an eyebrow and shook his head.

"I don't know how long you've been in here, but people on the outs don't use swords nowadays." He told him. "But I've shot a bow a few times before. I'd like to say my aim is okay for someone who only dabbles." He told him. Ivan nodded and unslung the bow and quiver from his back, tossing it to Alfred.

"I may be older than you, but I'm not that old. I never wielded a sword before I became trapped here, either." Alfred hoisted the bow and quiver over his shoulders and tested his reach, making sure he could get at the arrows if he needed to.

"So, Ivan, how long have you been in here?" He asked. He figured the guy probably wouldn't want to talk if he didn't even really want him here, but it was worth a shot. His suspicions were confirmed when Ivan rolled his eyes and pushed past him.

"Try to keep up, solnuska." Alfred's cheeks colored and he glared at the Russian. He wasn't sure what he'd called him, but the tome of his voice was enough to figure out that it was meant to be patronizing. He didn't like to be treated like a child.

"I'm 17, I have a name, and I don't speak your fucking weird ass language. Don't talk to me like that." He growled. The man just laughed and continued on. Alfred pouted and followed after him, still jogging to keep up. How fast could this guy walk!

"So young, dorogoy." He teased in that same patronizing tone that made Alfred feel like a toddler parading around in daddy's suit. He growled and put on a burst of speed to catch up to him.

"Oh, and what about you, grandpa?" How old are you?" He sneered, hoping to hit him where it hurt. But he just chuckled and looked back over his shoulder.

"That depends. What year is it in reality?" He asked, seeming to actually think about it.

"2011, why?" He asked, wondering just how long the other man had been in here. Surely he would have aged in here the same as in reality, right? And if he'd been in here too long and his body had died, wouldn't his dream self die, too?

"Four years..." He trailed off, not seeming to believe it. He'd been in here for four years? The poor man! What must his family think? Was he just laying on a bed somewhere, waiting four years to wake up? "That would make me 24." He said finally, turning away and heading off again, slowing down considerably so that Alfred could keep up.

Alfred was quiet for a moment, thinking through everything that had happened since he'd entered the Dreamscape. Mostly the fact that whoever had created it wasn't very creative. The place looked like Mirkwood, the frickin Cheshire cat was the one that had told him about the stupid game, and it had one path through the forest. Wait, the path!

"Hey! Wait a minute! If I can find the clearing again, I can find the path! The Cheshire cat said it led out of the forest!" He cried, eyes lighting up in excitement. He expected Ivan to turn around and join him in his joy, perhaps rushing back to the clearing. But he just waved a hand back at him dismissively.

"Do not bother, everything in the forest moves as soon as you lose sight of it. Nothing's in the same place twice. We could walk any way and we'd have an equal chance of finding that meadow." He told him. Alfred deflated, hope dying a little in his heart. If that was true, then he had almost no chance of getting back to the path. Ivan had been in the forest for four years and he obviously hadn't found it again, or he wouldn't be here in the woods. What chance did he have?

Ivan sighed and turned back to him. "Don't look so down, we will find the path again. You will soon learn, solnushko, that finding the path is much easier than staying on it. And you are never sure where on the path you might end up." Alfred tried to take heart at that, but it just made the situation seem more grim.

"So what, once you lose the path, you're fucked? You can find it again, but you might end up miles behind where you started and you're liable to get chased off again?" He scoffed, kicking at a rock. "They really don't want us to get out of here, do they?"

"That is the basic idea, yes. They wish to keep us here, so they move things around as often as they can. Or perhaps that's just how the Dreamscape works, I do not know. I have been wandering these blasted woods for years and I am no closer to figuring out how or why I am here or what this all is, what it means." He told him, brow furrowing as he brooded on the thought. It wasn't something Alfred wanted to think about, being trapped in an ever changing world where nothing was certain, not even the steps you'd already taken. He could go forward and reach the place where he started, or go backwards and reach where he was going. It was all so confusing.

"Whatever. Let's just go until we find the path. I'm pretty sure that with two of us we're more likely to hold our ground and stay on it." He reasoned. Ivan just shook his head and sat down on a nearby tree stump.

"First of all, we are going no further tonight. It will be getting dark soon and even without the threat of all the horrible things that come out at night, I still would not risk walking through the woods with no way to see what's under your feet. One of us could break an ankle that way and the last thing you want to be in here is injured." He said, digging a pipe and tobacco out of his pocket.

"First of all, does that mean we're making camp? Second of all, where did you get tobacco in here?" He asked, shaking his head increduously. Had he been scrimping and saving pipe tobacco for four years? On top of that, how did he even get it into the Dreamscape? All Alfred had woken up with was his glasses, a tshirt and jeans, and Grandpa's bomber jacket. Here was this guy who, even though he was only a few years older than Alfred, had seemingly woken up with World of Warcraft Hunter's gear, a broadsword, and pipe tobacco. Was this guy some sort of LARPer?

"Yes, we are making camp. And while I set up the shelter, you will practice your aim. Then i will teach you how to make replacement arrows. And as for the tobacco, you will occasionally come past a small town or village where you can buy and sell things. The people in the towns need items from the forest, but they can't go in or they'll never find their way back. And the adventurers trapped in the forest need a way to buy things like gear, weapons, and food. It works quite well for all concerned." He explained, puffing away at his pipe. "No go, young grasshopper, practice your skills."

"A karate kid joke, really?" Alfred scoffed, rolling his eyes and unslinging the bow from his back. He picked a tree at random and notched an arrow, sticking his tongue out from between his lips in concentration as he slowly lined up the shot, one eye closing reflexively. Ivan chuckled and shook his head.

"You are going to miss that shot." He taunted him. Alfred's ears burned and he relaxed the tension on the bowstring, but he refused to even acknowledge that the damn Russkie had said anything. So he pulled the bowstring taut again, the curve of the bow straining in his hands as his muscles flexed with the fumbling, half awkward movement of drawing his arrow back. He let the string go, yelping as it snapped the inside of his forearm. The arrow hurtled forward toward the tree and...

Missed by a long shot.

He cursed under his breath and went to retrieve the arrow. "How did you know I was going to miss! I aimed that arrow perfectly!" He whined, turning on Ivan as if it was his fault that he'd missed the shot.

"First of all, you took too long to line up the shot. If that had been a monster you'd have been dead already, so it didn't matter if you missed the shot or not. Second of all, you closed your left eye, throwing your depth perception off kilter. Third of all, I could not resist the jab. You looked like a child with your tongue stuck out like that." He chuckled. "Try keeping both your eyes open this time. You probably still won't hit the tree, but at least you will get closer, da?"

Ivan lifted himself off of the tree stump and strode over to a small but strong looking sapling, drawing a knife from his boot and hacking at the young, green wood. "I am going to construct us a shelter, you continue your practice. I will tell you when you are done, you are not to stop before." He said, glaring at Alfred seriously. "Do you hear me?"

Alfred glared back, but nodded, notching another arrow. This time, as he pulled the string back, he kept his tongue in his mouth and both eyes open. As Ivan had predicted, he still didn't get the arrow anywhere near the intended target, but he was much closer than the first time. This was way harder than first person shooting games.

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By the time Ivan called Alfred back from his practice he had managed to get two arrows into the wood of the tree, though neither had struck the spot he'd been aiming at. But when you were shooting at a tree trunk, just getting it in the wood was a pretty hefty accomplishment in Alfred's eyes. And with one day of practice, Alfred felt confident that he'd at least be able to catch some small animal for food within a month. Though he'd never wager on his skills against a monster.

Ivan, meanwhile, had constructed a sort of platform in the branches of a nearby tree with the trunks of saplings cut longwise down the middle and lashed together. The entire thing didn't look big enough for the both of them to lay together without invading each other's personal space, but it looked safe enough.

"Why up in the tree? Why not just make a lean to against the trunk or something?" He asked, jogging over to where Ivan was pulling out dried meat from his pack. He handed Alfred a piece and sat down on the tree stump he'd been occupying earlier.

"Because bad things crawl the forest floor at night. The trees are much safer." He told him, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees.

"But what about the things that climb? I'm sure that spider could have gotten up onto that little platform with no problems." He pointed out skeptically.

"What patrols the ground at night is much worse than anything we'll encounter with the trees. Trust me, Alfred. You do not want to meet any of them." He told him, giving Alfred a look that clearly told him not to pursue the matter any farther. But Alfred was not one to be deterred.

"So, what? The Bandersnatch? The Jabberwocky?" He scoffed, thinking back on that fucking cat. He hated cats so much. Especially that disappearing Cheshire prick.

"I have never seen them, but perhaps. You must remember that we are basically in a very bad dream, as real as the danger is. The Dreamscape contains all the things that lurk in the nightmares of man, coming forth from the shadows when we're at our most vulnerable. I do not doubt that somewhere, those creatures prowl in search of blood." He said, very serious. Alfred gulped and backed away slightly, sorry he'd asked. "It is getting darker. I will show you how to construct arrows when we make camp tomorrow. For now we will try to rest."

With that, Ivan swung up onto the platform with an easy grace. He'd probably done that a million times and yet Alfred still had trouble not feeling jealous over how easy he made it look. Especially after having to scramble up onto it himself, looking like some sort of awkward monkey. And yet the level of awkward still managed to spike when he got up onto the platform and lay down next to the Russian.

He made the mistake of laying down facing him and their eyes locked. They fell into some sort of weird half staring contest, half trance like state. Alfred felt his heart speed up and his cheeks darken as he stared into the violet eyes of his companion. But for the life of him, he couldn't look away. Ivan seemed similarly transfixed, eyes never straying from the younger man's face.

It was a heavily blushing Alfred that finally broke eye contact, jerking back as if he'd been burned and rolling over. "Whelp! Goodnight!" He squeaked, voice coming out much higher pitched than he'd meant it to. He could still feel his heart pounding against his rib cage and Ivan's warm body pressing into his own where it was absolutely unavoidable. He tried moving away, but aborted the effort when he almost fell off the platform.

This was going to be a long night.


	3. Chapter 3

Ivan woke up groggy and disoriented, not something he was used to. Usually he slept with one eye open and one hand on his knife, poised to attack at the slightest provocation. It didn't pay to sleep too deeply in the Dreamscape. That was one of the easiest ways to lose your life. Another thing he wasn't accustomed to was waking up with his arms wrapped around something warm. Something warm and breathing.

He was awake in a flash, wondering if something had snuck onto his platform in the middle of the night. It couldn't be too harmful if it had stayed there without killing him already. Most creatures would have sucked the life out of him or devoured his flesh and a succubus would have already been gone by the time he woke up. But this was still here and hadn't seemed to even put a scratch on him.

He looked down to see a tuft of blonde hair brushing against the tip of his nose. Oh, so it was only the brat. He could deal with that, it just required a bit more tact and stealth than killing some hapless creature that had snuck up on him in the night. Though he wasn't sure if waking up cuddled with a creature was more or less awkward than waking up cuddled with Alfred. At least he could stab the creature.

He started to disentangle himself with Alfred, working slowly and carefully to wiggle out of the deathgrip the boy had him in. It was like a vice! The boy must be much stronger than he thought, perhaps he had some potential. But that would all have to be dealt with after he extracted himself. He sighed and gingerly picked up Alfred's arm to move it, frowning when the blonde whined and cuddled closer like he was trying to take away a teddy bear. The thought of himself as some giant teddy bear didn't quite sit well with Ivan, who growled quietly and tried once more to break the grip without waking the teen up.

Only, he misjudged how much force he'd put into the shove and Alfred woke up, poking his head up and looking around like he didn't know where he was. He probably didn't, the poor thing. He remembered the first few nights he'd spent in the Dreamscape. He'd always expected just to wake back up and everything would be okay and he would be back in Chicago; Katyusha shaking him, trying to wake him up for a 10 am class. Natalia would be cooking blini and the smell alone would be enough to get him up out of bed.

His train of thought was broken as their eyes met and held there. Alfred looked like a deer caught in the headlights as he froze, staring up at Ivan like he thought the larger man was going to eat him. Ivan winced and tried to untangle himself faster, but the American beat him to it. He completely freaked out, shouting incoherent obscenities as he scrambled away. He tripped over himself, hit his head on the trunk of the tree with a dull thud, and fell the 5 feet to the ground to land on his ass.

Ivan was tempted to laugh, but the situation was awkward enough as it is without adding the boy's anger at being made fun of to the list of woes. The teen had a touchy temper, as he'd learned yesterday while trying to ignore him until he went away. Or perhaps he was just an attention seeker who didn't appreciate being ignored. If he was a betting man he'd bank on the latter.

He swung down out of the tree and extended a hand to help the teen, who was glaring up at him like this was all his fault, up off of the ground where he had fallen. Alfred took the hand and hauled himself up, rubbing his sore bottom and wincing. "Not the greatest way to wake up, I'll admit." He joked wryly, giving a grimace that Ivan was sure was supposed to be a smile.

"I agree, you are lucky that I did not kill you. When I woke up I thought you were some forest creature that had crawled onto the platform." He remarked casually, smirking inwardly as the boy paled. He was quite easy to rile up. He may have just found himself a new pastime. And he made the most ridiculous faces. Like right now, he looked so comically terrified that Ivan couldn't help but chuckle a bit.

"Oh, so you think this is funny? You think it's funny that you almost killed me?" He growled, face going red in his embarrassment and anger. The boy was just so expressive! He really was an open book. He wondered if the boy had ever gotten away with a lie in his life. Probably not.

"No, dorogoy." He said in a mocking tone, obviously patronizing the younger male. "What I find funny is the faces you make when I say that. You are quite bad at concealing your feelings. You should work on that." He said it as one would to a child who you didn't think quite got it. Alfred growled and lunged at him, trying to take a swing. Ivan merely side-stepped and watched with amusement as Alfred overshot his target without pulling back and sprawled to the ground.

"You are such an asshole, you know that? Have the four years in here robbed you of all knowledge of basic human interaction?" He growled, picking himself up off the ground and dusting himself off. This was the second time in less that 15 minutes that he'd found himself in the grass because of this man. If he didn't practically depend on him to survive, he'd kick his ass.

"Says the one who just took a swing at the man who saved his life, solnushka." He teased. He definitely wasn't going to make it easy for Alfred, that was for damned sure. Alfred merely glared at him and turned his back to the Russian. He reached up into the tree where he'd hung his bow and quiver the night before and slung them over his shoulder.

"Yeah, yeah. Whatever." He grumbled, looking put out. "Are we going to break camp or what?" Ivan nodded and took up his own weapons, scattering the ashes from the fire and generally trying to make it look less like they'd been here. He left the platform up in case any other trapped humans came across it and needed a reletively safe place to sleep. There was no truly safe place in the Dreamscape, he knew, but at least it would provide some small amount of cover.

"Now, you are going to test your skill with that bow. We are going hunting." He told the blonde, jerking his thumb over his shoulder and heading off. Alfred trailed behind him, wondering what he meant by that. He couldn't seriously expect him to be able to nail any animals when he could barely get an immobile tree. But he seemed serious, so Alfred decided to just go along with it.

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Alfred fired off another arrow, praying in his heart that it would actually hit it's target this time. They'd been hunting for hours and so far the only meat they'd caught was the rabbits that Ivan had set out traps for. He felt useless and stupid, firing arrow after arrow trying to hit something only to come up empty-handed every time. He was getting closer to being able to hit his mark, but not quite quick enough. And he was down to his last arrow. At this rate he'd never hit anything and the whole trip would be a bust except for those scrany rabbits that Alfred didn't feel right about eating in the first place.

He crept up silently on a deer, careful not to break any twigs underfoot and to make his steps silent and slow. He gt within shooting distance of the animal and raised his bow, notching an arrow and drawing the strong back slowly as he did so. He took aim at it, keeping both eyes open as he was instructed. His palms were sweating and his heart raced in his chest. This was it, if he couldn't get this deer it was all over. He exhaled a shaky breath and let loose the arrow.

It whizzed through the air, flying so fast Alfred almost couldn't track it's path. He watched with baited breath as it drew near to the young buck and flew true, striking it through the heart in a stroke of absolute luck. He cheered excitedly and rushed over to the dear, hauling it over his shoulder and jogging back to where Ivan had piled the rabbits and set the carcass down.

He looked around for Ivan, eager to show him the deer he'd caught. It wasn't very big, but it was definitely bigger than the rabbits. But before he could spot his companion, he heard an indistinct voice in the distance. He wasn't sure why, but it sounded so familiar. He turned toward the direction the noise was coming from and took a few steps, taking a few more when he heard the voice again. Soon he was walking through the woods towards the origin of the sound, whatever it was getting more and more distinct the closer he got.

"Alfred!" He voice suddenly called. Alfred's heart clenched as he recognized the voice. It was his mother's voice!" He gasped and took off, running through the woods at top speeds. His mother was here! And she was calling for him. Was she hurt? Did she know he was there or was she just lost and looking for him? Was she still the same or had she changed?

"Hold on, mom! I'm coming!" He shouted as he raced through the under brush. He would finally see his mom after 3 long years! "I'm coming!"

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Ivan came back from checking the traps once more to find Alfred gone and a deer carcass laying near the rabbits. Not half bad for a beginner, really. It was a very young buck, but it was meat and would feed them for at least a few days. They could even have a nice stew out of it. He sat down and got to work skinning the animals they'd caught that day, humming to himself and wondering where Alfred had gotten off to.

He had jut finished slicing the meat into chunks to dry out later when he heard Alfred shout. He cursed under his breath and swept the meat into his pack, taking off into the woods after him. Wherever Alfred was, he sounded like he was calling out for someone. Had he gone looking for him? Or was he caught by some creature and begging for Ivan to come save him?

He raced through the woods, looking around frantically for his young companion. As he drew closer to the boy he could hear another voice, a woman's that was answering his calls. Drawing even closer, he could make out that Alfred was calling for his mother. But Ivan knew that whatever Alfred was heading towards was not his mother. There were things in this forest who's only joy was to trick travelers to their deaths by imitating the people they loved.

He thanked god silently that he was swifter than Alfred, for he overtook him just as they neared the edge of a cliff, Alfred's mother's voice coming from the bottom of the deep ravine. Alfred, blinded by his desire to see his mother again, couldn't see it, but Ivan could. He charged towards the teen, hoping to stop him before he fell in.

Alfred was grinning madly now, racing over the rocks towards his mother. He could barely see the path in front of him and there was a ringing in his ears drowning out everything but the sound of his mother's voice. It was the only thing in his mind, like an obsession. He laughed loudly as he went over the edge, ready to embrace his mother. But he snapped out of the trance as his feet left the ground and he began to fall. His first reaction was heartbreak. He had been so sure it was his mom. But he was alone again in this wretched place with no way out. His second reaction was to scream bloody murder as he realized he was about to die.

He covered his face, bracing for impact with the jagged rocks below only to find himself dangling by the back of his pants. He looked up with wide eyes to see Ivan leaning over the edge of the cliff with a hand fisted in the hem of his pants. He let out a whoosh of breath and grinned shakily up at him.

"Guess I owe you twice, now." He joked, voice coming out as a terrified squeak whole octaves higher than he meant it to. Ivan merely grunted and hauled him up, slinging him over his shoulder and walking off without a word to him. He would leave the Leshi for another day or another adventurer, but Alfred had to be dealt with now. This was twice that he would have died without Ivan, did the boy have no common sense!

"Yo, Ivan? You can put me down now." Alfred huffed, getting a little fidgety. It was kinda hot that the guy could just throw him around like a sack of potatoes, but that didn't mean that he wanted him to. "I'm not going to go jump off the cliff, man. I don't even hear my mom's voice anymore!" he protested.

"No. You are not going to be put down until I am sure you will not get your stupid ass killed!" Ivan growled, stomping through the forest, eyes blazing with anger. How could the boy have been so stupid! He could have gotten himself killed! He would have if Ivan wasn't there!

"Come on, man! That's not fair! It was that monster's fault, not mine!" He protested, trying to wriggle free. But Ivan's grip was like steel and he couldn't break it. He huffed and fell limp, hoping that Ivan would let him go soon. Otherwise he would tire himself out trying to get free. His prayers were answered when Ivan threw him rather harshly to the ground, glaring down at him.

"If you had even one ounce of common sense you would not have followed that voice. This forest is tricky, Alfred. Everything about it is designed to disorient you and trick your senses. Creatures who change their appearance to trick you, witches that cast spells that change everything you see and hear, the forest itself changes. You can trust nothing you see, hear, smell, taste, or touch here. In a world of dreams, nothing is as it seems." He shouted at him, hoping to drill it into his thick skull. "And you! You just waltz in here, not using one single brain cell in that pretty empty head of yours, and think you can attach yourself to me? Why should I let you stay when all you cause is trouble. You will kill us both within the week!"

Alfred blinked up at him, looking truly horrified. Was he really that bad? He knew that he wasn't always the brightest crayon in the box, but he didn't thin it had really been that bad. "I...I'm sorry!" He cried, begging Ivan with his eyes to forgive him.

"Sorry does not cut it, Alfred. Stay here in the bushed while I deal with that damned creature. And remember, keep sight of the cliffs or they will move and we will be separated." He told him, turning his back on the teen without another word and making his way back to the cliff. He looked around, trying to spot where the thing was hiding.

He saw a flash of tail disappear behind some boulders and smirked, giving chase. He jumped from ledge to ledge like a mountain goat, used to the rough terrain that the Dreamscape usually threw at travelers. There were some truly terrifying places here, so a few rocks and a high ledge wasn't going to scare him any. He lept once more and ducked behind the rocks.

There he found a little man with mean little beady eyes trying to find a way out of the dead end he'd trapped himself into. From the waist up he was a man, but from the waist down he was a goat with shaggy brown fur and long goat ears sprouting from his head. He turned swiftly back towards Ivan and hissed, backing up to the stone wall that was trapping him. It was a Leshi, a Russian demon who imitated voices to lure travelers off the sides of cliffs and ditches. They were one of the monsters in the Dreamscape that Ivan had known of before entering.

Ivan advanced on the creature, driving it further into the corner so it couldn't escape. It tried to imitate the voices of people he had known in his life before, but Ivan knew it was nothing more than a trick. It tried his mother first, begging him to have a heart and let it live. His sister Natalya, berating him for wasting his time on such a creature. Finally, as he brought down his sword on the creature's head, it screamed out in the voice of his Elder sister Katyusha. A shiver went down his spine as he basically heard his sister's dying cries, but he knew that it was the right thing.

He sheathed his sword and made his way back to the bushes where he'd left Alfred, slinging the squirming teenager over his shoulder once more and setting off into the woods. He informed Alfred that he would not let him down until they broke camp for the Afternoon and carried on as the boy resigned himself to being carried and went still. He shuddered once more as the ravine melted out of sight, glad to leave the echoes of Yekaterina's voice far behind him.


	4. Chapter 4

Alfred wasn't let down again until Ivan deemed it necessary to break for lunch later in the day. The larger man was still seething as he tossed Alfred to the ground like a rag doll. Alfred scowled and opened his mouth to tell the jerk off for treating him like a sack of potatoes, but thought better of it when Ivan glared at him. Alfred didn't always know where the line was and he often crossed it without noticing (it was the main reason people got annoyed with him, the second highest reason was his obnoxious laugh) but he knew he was close to the line with this one. He would keep his mouth shut for now and maybe Ivan wouldn't leave him flat on his ass, alone in the woods. If there was one thing he didn't want, it was to be alone. And not just because the view of Ivan's ass over his shoulder was great.

"I am going to gather firewood along the treeline. You are to sit here and not move under any circumstances unless your life or well being are threatened. Do I make myself clear, Alfred?" Ivan asked, obviously still on his last nerve. Jesus, man, chill the fuck out. Will ya? But, of course, Alfred wasn't going to tell him that. He made a dismissive gesture with his hand, giving Ivan the green light to go...do whatever the fuck he said he was going to do. Alfred hadn't really been listening. He'd gotten the part about "threatening his well being" but that had been about it.

"Alfred, did you even hear me?" Ivan growled, swatting the offending hand away from him. The boy may be attractive, but it was obvious he was a brat. And not that bright, to add the icing onto this cake of shit. He would have to do something about that. Perhaps a sort of Dreamscape Boot camp. But he doubted that any training would shape the boy up more than a few more life-threatening mishaps. But he also doubted that they would survive more disasters like the last few they'd had.

"Yeah, yeah. Don't move or you'll freak out again. I got it." He drawled, obviously not that interested. He was already looking towards the water like a child looks at a particularly desired toy. With everything that had happened today, the boy still wanted to endanger himself by going into the water? Was he insane, or just stupid? In a world where anything could be waiting behind every corner, he wanted to dive into murky water that could hold any number of nasty things waiting to rip his limbs off or drown him. He couldn't even begin to name all of the things that lurked in the depths of the river from all sorts of cultures around the world and from all time periods. Anything that had ever haunted man's nightmares was here. And Alfred seemed to want to be attacked by them all.

"Forget it. If you get killed, it isn't my fault. Stupid child." He muttered the last part under his breath, stalking off to the treeline to gather wood. He weaved in and out of the trees, picking up aas many dry twigs and branches as he could to get a good fire going. They wouldn't need a particularly big one, but it would need to burn hot enough to cook their food. The entire time he kept his eyes on Alfred, making sure to never lose sight of him. You could even say his world revolved around the teenager now. How ironic, yes?

He had just looked back to check on his charge when his foot caught on something in the grass. He stumbled a bit, catching himself at the last moment before he tripped. After righting himself, he looked down to see what could possibly be sitting there. It was probably a rock, but it would still be beneficial to himself and other travellers to have it out of the way. Nothing good could come of tripping in the middle of these woods. A broken ankle at best and a few seconds shaved off of your escape time at the worst. He bent down to pick the item up and examine it more closely.

He dusted it off, letting the dirt cascade off of it and out of it. It was a small golden chalice, not too fancy for a cup made of such precious metal. There were no jewels or intricate engravings. No embossments or designs. What, then, was the purpose of the cup? He turned it upright, tilting his head as he noted that the cup had a lid, kept on by a hinge and sealed well. Why would this mysterious cup need a lid? And what was inside it that would need a sealed, hinged lid? It was all very curious. He looked back to Alfred, meaning to call him over and show him the anomaly. But there was just one problem.

Alfred was gone.

His breath caught in his throat as he realized the place he had left his companion was completely empty. His eyes darted around frantically, trying to catch any glimpse of him. But the only signs that he'd ever been there in the first place was a small indent in the grass where he'd been sitting and ripples in the river. The idiot boy had obviously disobeyed him and gone swimming. Suddenly, it was obvious what the cup in his hand was and he raced towards the river, hoping it wasn't too late. If Alfred was already dead, this wouldn't work. He wound back his arm and flung the cup into the river, bellowing out his command.

"The cup for his life, Vodianoi! Return him to me now that you have your accursed harvest!" He growled, wading into the water himself. If the creature didn't return the boy, he would dive after him himself. He didn't know why, didn't even stop to think about it, but he couldn't let that boy die. He had to save him, no matter what the cost. And if that wretched demon had him, he would just have to kill it to get Alfred back. Not that anyone would particularly object to that.

But before he could diver under to get his travelling partner, he saw a flash of blonde hair in the water as the boy floated to the surface. He grabbed for him, getting his head out of the water as fast as possible. Vodianoi had given his body back, but that didn't guarantee his life. He was still very much susceptible to drowning. He hauled him to the shore, cradling him in his arms as he checked his pulse and breathing. He was worryingly pale and the breaths that he was struggling to take sounded watery, but he was alive. Ivan felt a sense of relief like none he'd ever felt before wash over him as he held the boy to his chest. If he had been a more sensitive or emotional man, he might have succumb to tears of joy. But he would leave it to Alfred to be the expressive one. He was much better at it.

Alfred stirred. Weakly at first, but stronger after he had coughed up a bit of the water that had made it's way down his throat. He groaned weakly and opened his eyes. They seemed so much more blue than Ivan remembered them from the last time he'd seen them. Maybe because he'd been so angry, maybe because he was just glad to see them again without the white film of death covering them. But for whatever reason, they were so much more captivating than he could ever have imagined just this morning. The life in them was perhaps the most wonderful thing he'd ever seen. But then again, he was half mad with relief. Later he would probably be chastising the idiot boy for disobeying him.

"Hey." Alfred said, voice raspy from the water he'd breathed in.

"Hey yourself." Ivan answered back. He wasn't sure what had prompted that particular response. Maybe he'd seen it in a movie. But he was immediately glad he'd said it, because Alfred gave a hoarse laugh. He was obviously still weak from the ordeal and Ivan was still to glad that he wasn't dead to yell at him. He also didn't think Alfred would last long out here in wet clothes with no comfortable place to sleep or blankets to keep him warm. But they'd lost their last bargaining chip. If he had another cup or if he hadn't had to use the one he had found to bargain for Alfred's life, they could have used it to make Vodianoi take them to the closest town where they could find lodging, warm food, and dry clothes. What was he going to do now?

But just as he was about to get up and make a fire in an attempt to keep Alfred warm and maybe dry him out a bit, he heard a watery screech from the river. The cup he had just thrown into the river went whizzing past his head as the water demon rose up out of the water. The rage etched upon his face was enough to tell Ivan that maybe there was still a chance. If his assumptions were right, he'd unintentionally tricked the demon and he was now obligated to help them.

"Eeemptyyyy!" The creature hissed, hands balled into fists and an air of anger surrounding him. The demon, in the form of an old man, was pissed. And Ivan knew his only chance was to conceal the fact that it was unintentional.

"Yes, the cup was empty." He said with a smirk that he did not really feel. "You are now required to grant me one request. You knew well the rules under which you are governed."

"What isss your requesst, miserable, tricky mortaal?" The creature hissed, obviously annoyed by having been tricked by a human.

"Transport for my companion and myself to the nearest town with an inn and a doctor." He said, trying to seem bolder than he felt. He could show no signs of weakness, or the ruse wouldn't work. He quelled the fear that he felt and held Alfred closer.

The demon growled and disappeared back into the water. For what seemed like whole minutes, Ivan thought he hadn't fallen for it and he and Alfred would be stuck there with no idea how to get to a safe place for the weakened teenager to rest and recouperate. But just as he was about to give up hope, the waters of the river swelled into a tidal wave that formed itself into the shape of a chariot drawn by horses. The entire thing was made of water, but Ivan knew it would bear their weight. Vodianoi was honor bound to take them safely where they requested to go. He hooked his arms under Alfred's legs and shoulders and lifted him up, wading into the water and climbing into the chariot.

As soon as they were in, almost before he could settle them both comfortably, the chariot took off at a breakneck pace. The trees passed by in a blur of green as they sped along. Ivan could only pray that they could stay in for the duration of the trip. Alfred shut his eyes tight, his stomach doing flips as the water horses pulled them along. He was already weak from his near death experience and the pace was far from helping his stomach. Ivan shushed him, trying to make him as comfortable as possible. He was still feeling protective of the younger man, something inside of him calling him, urging him to make the boy better. Or at least more comfortable.

"Ivan?" Alfred said, looking up at him with tired eyes.

"Yes, Alfred?" He responded, smoothing back wet blonde locks.

"Thanks for saving me." He said softly, eyes closing as he began to fall asleep to the slight rocking of the water chariot. Ivan started to reply, but by that time the boy was already asleep and he knew his response would fall on deaf ears. So he just patted the sleeping teenager on the head and let him rest. He obviously needed it.


	5. Chapter 5

Ivan cradled Alfred against him as the water chariot sped along, trees passing by in a blur of green. He had pulled a jacket and wrapped it around the shivering boy, trying to keep him warm. But it wasn't working as well as he'd hoped. He needed to get him to an inn and fast or he would catch his death. It seemed such a trivial matter compared to what else could happen, but that didn't make the concern less valid or pressing.

Why, exactly, did he care whether or not an airheaded brat that he'd only been travelling with for three days lived or died? Before they'd met Ivan had been happy enough on his own. Sure, he would help passing travelers when he had the chance, but never had he let them stay with him. So why this boy, and why now? There was something about him that wouldn't let him leave the spoiled child on his own. Was it the way he'd persistently demanded Ivan to take him? Or was it simply because he was so attractive? He had to admit that it had been a long time since he's been intimate with anyone.

He looked down at Alfred's youthful face, tracing the lines and curves of baby fat that still clung there. He looked so peaceful with his eyes closed and his raspy breath ghosting over the junction between his scarf and his chin. That didn't sound good. Would he even survive the rest of the trip? It was like holding a ticking time bomb in his arms. A particularly sexy time bomb who was blessedly silent for once. He was much more attractive with that big mouth shut.

What was he thinking? He didn't have the time to be waxing poetic over his flaxen hair and cherry red lips. And yet here he was, doing it again.

He shook himself out of that dangerous train of thought and looked down at Alfred. He had lost consciousness by this time, resting his tired eyes as his body chilled despite Ivan's best efforts. The clock was ticking. He pulled him closer, trying to warm him. Alfred gave a shiver and curled closer to the warmth, breathing heavily. How long was this going to take! There was no driver to consult and he had a feeling that the horses wouldn't be doing much talking. Was there any way to speed things up?

Just as he was about to try hitting the horses or somehow enticing them into moving faster, they rounded a bend in the river. He could see the town rising out of the distance, a sense of hope and relief washing over him like the flow of the river. He stood up with Alfred held bridal style in his arms, prepared to swim to shore when the chariot stopped. But he need not have bothered, because the horses pulled the chariot up and over the boundaries of the river, flooding the banks and whisking them over the ground. How long could they keep going before the water ran out, Ivan wondered.

He could feel them gradually descending as some of the water making up their transport receded back into the river. Ivan braced himself for impact, but the landing was as gentle as if he'd always been standing there. He let out a sigh of relief and turned around to give the horses some sort of thanks. But by the time he turned around, there was nothing there but the river flowing peacefully once more to wherever it ended. He paused a moment to send up silent thanks to whoever or whatever sent him that cup and took off through the grass towards the town he could see in the distance with Alfred in his arms.

He looked around frantically, trying to find any sign of a doctor's office or an inn where he could place Alfred to warm up until he could find one. He could hear his heart pounding in his ears from running through the town. But still he couldn't find anything. He grabbed the sleeve of a passing villager, catching his breath to pant out his request.

"Doctor...I need a doctor!" he begged, imploring her to please for the love of God help him.

"Oh dear! Is your friend hurt, young man!" she asked, looking Alfred over.

"Fell...fell in the river. He's cold and breathing heavily," he explained, impatient. He didn't want her to ask these stupid questions, he wanted her to get the damn doctor!

"Well come along with me, dearie. I'm the only doctor here in town," she said, hurrying off in what Ivan assumed was the direction of her home or office. She led them through the twisting alley ways of the town, getting Ivan hopelessly lost. But she seemed to know where she was going because before too long they'd arrived at a modest home with the unmistakable sign that denoted doctors everywhere. She ushered him into the building and motioned for him to set Alfred down on the table and started stripping his clothes off. Ivan couldn't force himself to look away, eyes following every line and contour. It wasn't until she covered him with a blanket that he was able to break off the intense stare.

"Now you say he fell into the river? He certainly looks wet enough. Just a tip for the next time this happens; take the wet clothes off and transfer your body heat. Works best if he comes into contact with your skin." She said this so nonchalantly, as if she wasn't suggesting that he strip them both down and press their naked flesh together, sliding against one another teasingly...

No. This was business time.

"Is he going to be alright, though?" he asked, clearing his throat and trying not to think too much about anything but Alfred's wellbeing.

"Oh yes. I'll give him something to warm him up and clear the rest of the water out of his lungs and then you can take him to the inn to rest. You should probably get him some new clothes, though. These don't look like they'd be very practical. Is he a newbie, or something?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.  
Ivan was rather taken aback at her use of the term "newbie". He knew that the people who populated the towns were travelers who had been trapped here just like him on some level, and that they had simply decided to make a life for themselves here rather than risk them trying to get back, but for some reason he always assumed that they were old timey folks. However, he hadn't been transported to the past and it was just as likely that this kind, portly midwife had once worked in a modern hospital with all the equipment she no longer took for granted.

He nodded and looked back at his companion, glad that he would be okay. "Yes, he has only been here two days. I picked him up just after he met Cheshire. He was being chased by a Mirkwood spider. He has...had a hard time adjusting, to say the least."

"And what about you?" she asked. "You don't seem like a newcomer. You have a weathered look about you. Why are you picking up baggage if you've managed to survive this long without retreating to town life?"

Ivan wanted to tell her that she was being awfully nosy for a doctor. But she was the one administering Alfred's care and it would do no good to annoy her. So he just shrugged. "I could not tell you if I wanted to," he replied. "I tried to leave him after killing the spider, but he insisted. Who was I to say no to a bit of companionship."

"It helps that he's not exactly the Hunchback of Notre Dame," she said with a sly smile, pouring some sort of liquid down Alfred's throat. Before a flustered Ivan could say anything to the sassy comment, Alfred sat bolt upright on the table and leaned over the side. He hacked and coughed, at some times holding onto the table, at some times clutching his chest. As he coughed, burped, and choked, water came spurting out of his mouth at random intervals until the coughing died down and he was left panting and weaker than before.

Ivan stood back, feeling awkward and not knowing what to do. Should he go to his companion, coddle him and tell him everything was going to be okay? Or should he simply dump him in the inn and leave him there to warm up while he went to the tavern and drank until he washed off the stink of his embarrassing display while he was unconscious? He was torn between the person he used to be and the person he'd become since landing here. So what would it be? Caring human being, or woodsy lone ranger?

"How much do I owe you?" he asked, dodging the decision for now. It would be best to pay the doctor before he hauled the patient away, anyway.

"No charge, dearie. But if you have any medicinal herbs from the forest, I'd take them gladly. It isn't often we get travelers in, much less those that bother to pick anything useful up," she told him, pleasant smile once again back on her plump face.

"I do have a few, in fact. I usually reserve them for emergencies. But since I can gather more and you can't, you are welcome to them," he told her, slinging the pack off of his back and rifling through it until he came across the herbs. He handed them over and looked back to the table where Alfred was now sitting up, the blanket bunched around his waist and bare chest exposed. He stared for just a moment too long before fishing out a spare set of his own clothing and tossing it to the boy.

"Here, put that on. We can't go out in public with you naked like that. I'll get you some clothes while you're resting in the inn," he said, turning his back while Alfred dressed. "And no talking, rest your throat," he added as an afterthought. He wanted to enjoy the silence as long as possible before Alfred began to chatter endlessly again. Though he would admit that it was rather endearing at times. But only at times. Lord knows he could learn to shut up more often.

He turned back around just as Alfred pulled the too large shirt over his head. He was well-built enough that he wasn't swimming in his clothes like a child, but they were definitely not his size. If they had been in the outside world, the first image to come to mind would have been a young man wearing his boyfriend's shirt after an intimate night. He had to say, it was not an unattractive thought. As long as his was the shirt he was wearing.

"So are we going to go or not?" Alfred asked, breaking that delightful train of thought. Ivan was lucky the boy was so clueless when it came to these things or he would surely know how Ivan looked at him, like a piece of prime rib. He would really learn to be more observant if he wanted to survive. But Ivan had always had a thing for ditzy blondes.

"Yes, we are going," he grunted. He turned to the doctor. "Madame, could you point us in the direction of the nearest inn?" he asked. She nodded and gave him the directions, checking a few more times to make sure that he got it. He turned back to Alfred, who was now wobbling next to him. He wrapped an arm around his waist and wrapped Alfred's arm around his shoulders. "Idiot child, you are not strong enough to walk on your own."

Alfred scoffed and kneed him lightly in the thigh. "I'm still strong enough to kick your ass, big guy."

Ivan chuckled, shaking his head. "Maybe later, little one. For now you are to rest while I get you clothes of your own." He leaned in closer to his ear and whispered, "As attractive as you are in my clothing, you will be much more enticing in clothes that fit." Alfred shivered and scooted away, obviously from the cold! He would readily admit that Ivan was fucking fine, but that didn't mean he wanted Ivan whispering dirty things in his ear!

...Okay, so he totally wanted Ivan whispering dirty things in his ear, but still! Wasn't he supposed to come up with all sorts of reasons not to want to screw the guy? I mean, he really really wanted to just jump his bones, but wasn't he supposed to be a good little boy and do as his Daddy said and wait for love? He didn't know if Ivan had anything, or if he was even serious. Fuck, why couldn't this be easier?

He chose instead to ignore it like Ivan hadn't even said anything. Ivan frowned and quickened his steps, hustling them to the inn. When he had gotten a response from the boy at first, he'd been pleased. It was always entertaining to mess with him and it also hinted that he would be a responsive lover. Maybe he would pursue this option. But not tonight, Alfred needed to rest.

They entered the tavern on the first floor of the inn, Alfred still hanging off of Ivan like a limp doll. The noise hit them like a wall as Ivan set Alfred down at a table near the door with specific instructions not to go anywhere. Alfred nodded his understanding, but Ivan doubted he would really stay there for very long. Best to get this over with quick, then. Like ripping off a band-aid. You do it quick, toss it somewhere, and then get sauced. Though, didn't that make Alfred the band-aid? In that case, the phrase "do it quick" took on a whole new meaning.

He waded through the crowd, avoiding drunken woodsmen, tipsy call girls, and laughing regulars. It was a lively place, the whole bar crawling with rowdy customers. It would have been a good atmosphere if he had been here to drink, but he wasn't. He sidled up to the bar, getting the bartender's attention. The man nodded to him and slid a drink across the counter at the customer in front of him before joining Ivan.

"What can I get for you, sir?" he asked, wiping down a glass with a bar cloth. He was a short, balding man in his fifties. Nothing out of the ordinary in this place or profession. Ivan shook his head and refused the offer. Business first, then pleasure.

"No, I am not here for a drink. I am here to ask about a room. My friend needs a warm place to rest from our ordeals in the forest. If you could please just lease us a room, we will be out of your way in no time," he told him. The bartender smiled, revealing a gold tooth. Ivan wondered idly if that was recent or from the waking world.

"No, no. I insist. Just one on the house, something for your friend too. It's gonna warm him up a sight better than a blanket." Ivan frowned, not wanting to have to deal with a belligerent salesman. If he said he didn't want a drink, he didn't want a drink. Could this man not understand that?

"I really do not want a drink, and my companion is much too young," he explained, trying not to lose his temper with the man. He was snappish at the best of times. After everything that had happened today, he was in no mood for this man's nonsense.

"Actually, a drink sounds kind of awesome, do they have coke?" Alfred asked, suddenly standing beside him. Ivan looked around, wondering how Alfred had just appeared like that. He shrugged it off and took Alfred by the shoulder.

"Alfred, he is not talking about the kind of drinks you are. He is talking about alcohol you..." He took a breath, eye twitching as he struggled to keep a handle on himself. First the annoying bartender, now Alfred was being his usual airheaded self. He massaged his temples, feeling a headache coming on.

"Oh. Well in that case, got any beer?" Alfred said, smiling brightly at the bartender. The man nodded, despite having already been told that Alfred was too young to drink, and slid a bottle across the counter to him. Ivan was incredulous. What kind of nerve did this man have, giving beer to a 17 year old kid?

"Relax, man. No drinking age here. The kid's fine, just chill out," the bar tender told him, leaning against the bar. "Now, what can I get you?" he asked. Ivan sighed and decided that if everyone was going to insist on him drinking that he might as well just do it.

"Vodka, straight. Just bring the bottle," he said, looking over at where Alfred was sipping at his beer. He chuckled a bit as the boy scrunched up his nose and coughed. This was obviously his first time drinking. "If you drink it fast, the taste is not so bad," he told him, taking a shot of the vodka. Alfred nodded and stared at the bottle, face scrunching up. He took it and downed the whole thing in an impressive display.

"That was gross," he whined, coughing. It tasted like fucking piss! But he was already starting to feel more loose, happier, even warmer. Before he could get up from the bar, another bottle was placed in front of him. What the hell? Why not. He raised the bottle and made a small toast. "Bottoms up," he said, taking a drink. Ivan raised his shot and drained it, leaning on his elbows.

.-.~.-.~.-.~.-.~.-.~.-.~.-.~.-.~.-.~.-.~.-.~.-.~.-.~.-.~.-.~.-.~.-.~.-.

Three hours, one beer, and countless shots of vodka later and Ivan and Alfred were completely smashed. Alfred felt light and happy, like the whole world was just right and nothing bad could happen. Yeah, maybe he couldn't exactly stand up and maybe he was being a bit too handsy with Ivan, but that was just a trivial detail. Everything was going to be fine because nothing could ever be wrong in the world when he felt this awesome.

He giggled drunkenly and leaned up against Ivan, looking up at him and blinking owlishly. It was like he'd never seen him before this moment. Sure, he'd noticed that the guy wasn't bad looking. But now he was looking like the sexiest thing on two legs. And those eyes! Who had violet eyes, anyway? His dad's were kinda blueish purple, but that was different. This guy's eyes were straight violet, and it was kinda hot. His whole body was kinda hot, actually. Maybe he should get up and go outside. But everytime he tried to get up, Ivan pulled him back down and muttered something about "getting your pretty ass lost."

He looked around the bar, trying to find a way to get outside without Ivan pulling him back down. But every thought about getting outside fled his head when he saw the karaoke machine in the corner. He didn't question why there was a karaoke machine in a place that seemed to be stuck in the dark ages, but they had bottled miller light. Maybe they just had some things and not others? Oh who cared, karaoke machine!

"Ivan! Ivan look! There's a karaoke machine! We should sing something!" he urged, eyes lighting up. Alfred loved karaoke, it was a big thing with him. When he was younger, he and his mother used to have a karaoke machine and every Friday they would have contests. He hadn't done karaoke in so long and he just wanted to sing with Ivan so bad. To show him how awesome he was for taking him in.

"I am not going to sing with you, Alfred. We do not even know if the machine works." He told him, waving him off. He was not fond of singing, he did not consider himself very proficient. Especially when drunk.

"Come on! Pleeeeease?" He begged, clasping his hands together and giving Ivan puppy dog eyes. "I'll be your best friend forever!" He urged. "Pleasepleaseplease?"

"Just sing with the kid, man," the bartender told him, laughing. These two were ridiculously entertaining. It would be hilarious to see them sing and he'd get free entertainment for the other guests.

Ivan grumbled and glared at the both of them, wondering why they wanted to gang up on him so badly. The drinking, the karaoke, what next? But Alfred looked so hopeful and Ivan was drunk. He was powerless under the gaze of those puppy dog eyes. He glared at Alfred for a few more moments before sighing exasperatedly and getting up from the bar.

"One song. No more. And after this you," he said, pointing at the bartender. "Are going to give us a room." The bar tender nodded and went to fetch the key while Alfred dragged his larger companion towards the stage.

"Dude, I know just the song! It's like...the staple of drunken karaoke," he giggled, rifling through the CDs. He squealed in glee when he located the CD, eagerly jamming it into the machine. He hauled Ivan to the microphone as the recorded piano started playing through the speakers. He grabbed the microphone and giggled again as the words flashed across the monitor.

Just a small town girl  
Living in a lonely world  
She took the midnight train going anywhere

Ivan grumbled again and took the other microphone, glaring at the crowd as he was forced to sing. This was going to be hell, wasn't it?

Just a city boy  
Born and raised in South Detroit  
He took the midnight train going anywhere

This wasn't so bad, really. He still wasn't happy about being bullied into singing, but Alfred just looked so happy. And somewhere in his heart, something stirred. He didn't know what it was, maybe it was just the alcohol. But he was seeing Alfred in a different light. He was smiling so brightly and his eyes just shined. He'd hit that.

A singer in a smokey room

Alfred was really getting into it now, moving to the beat. Ivan watched him raptly, quite liking the way Alfred's hips swung in time to the music.

The smell of wine and cheap perfume

They joined in together, a smile spreading over Ivan's face as he completely forgot that he'd ever not wanted to do this.

For a smile they can share the night  
It goes on and on and on and on  
Working hard to get my fill,  
Everybody wants a thrill  
Payin' anything to roll the dice,  
Just one more time  
Some will win, some will lose  
Some were born to sing the blues  
Oh, the movie never ends  
It goes on and on and on and on

They were laughing now as they belted out the lyrics, Alfred hanging off of Ivan. Ivan wrapped his arm around the other's waist, maybe a bit lower than necessary.

Working hard to get my fill,  
Everybody wants a thrill  
Payin' anything to roll the dice,  
Just one more time  
Some will win, some will lose  
Some were born to sing the blues  
Oh, the movie never ends  
It goes on and on and on and on

Alfred looked over at Ivan, his heart skipping a beat. He looked so much better when he smiled.

Strangers waiting, up and down the boulevard  
Their shadows searching in the night  
Streetlights people, living just to find emotion  
Hiding, somewhere in the night.

Their eyes met as they sang, something passing between them that neither could quite pin down.

Don't stop believin'  
Hold on to the feelin'  
Streetlights people

Don't stop believin'  
Hold on  
Streetlight people

Don't stop believin'  
Hold on to the feelin'  
Streetlights people

As the song ended, they hung suspended in their own little bubble. They didn't hear anything else around them, only the pounding of their own hearts in their ears. They both leaned in, eyes locked. For long moments they each thought the other was going to kiss them. But before they could seal the deal, the cheering of the other patrons penetrated their little world and they both pulled back.

"You aren't half bad, big guy," Alfred whispered, looking away. His cheeks were tinged red and Ivan knew, just knew that Alfred had been about to kiss him.

"You were not so bad, yourself," he responded. He began to reach out for Alfred, but let his hand fall limp. There was no way he was drunk enough for this. Or maybe he was too drunk and that's why all of this was happening in the first place. Either way there was no way he was going to let anything happen. Not now, not tonight.

"Thanks. Uh...we should...we should probably get the room key," Alfred piped up. What had he been thinking? Of course Ivan didn't want to kiss him! He was just some stupid kid that always got him into trouble. That was okay, though. It wasn't like Alfred actually liked him. He was just hot. Right, totally. Didn't like him at all.

Ivan nodded and waded back through the crowd, accepting the pats on the back and handshakes from amused customers on the way. He wedged himself into a space at the bar, nodding to the bartender as he retrieved the keys. He made his way back to Alfred, not making eye contact. They didn't speak as they made their way back to the room they'd been given.

Alfred immediately crawled into the bed nearest the door, just wanting this day to be over already. He'd fallen into a river and almost drowned, gotten drunk off his ass, and almost kissed the guy he was travelling with. He'd chalk this one up as a loss and just let it go. Before his head even hit the pillow, he was already out.

But Ivan wasn't quite ready to sleep yet. He needed to clear his head before he ended up doing something he would regret later. He left the room, slipping the keys into his pocket and heading out the door of the inn. He left behind the warm chatter of the bar and the sleeping young man who so plagued his thoughts and stepped out into the cold night.

He slipped his hands into his pockets, looking up at the full moon in the sky. It swam in front of him as his drunken mind mulled over everything that had happened. Today, yesterday, everything. And not just since he'd come across Alfred. He thought back to when he had first found himself here, dumped on the path and facing the Cheshire Cat. He wished he could have killed that cat. Not that it would have stopped anything. Whoever was bringing the humans here would just have sent another liaison. But it would have made him feel better.

He came to the fountain in the middle of town, the water shimmering and rippling in the moonlight. So many things had gone wrong in those first few months. He'd almost died so many times he'd lost count. But every mistake taught him something, a valuable lesson about how to survive in this place. After four years his near death experiences had been reduced to once in a blue moon events that were usually out of his control. But then this punk kid had come in and suddenly he was in a life threatening situation every day.

But could he fault him? He had made the same mistakes, had to learn the same lessons. Four years ago he'd been no better than Alfred, maybe even worse. He'd just been luckier, surviving by the skin of his teeth. But at least he'd been able to make it on his own. Alfred would have been dead within five minutes if he hadn't come along. So maybe Alfred wasn't as unlucky as he thought.

"Hey big guy, this seat taken?" came a soft, familiar voice from behind him. Ivan turned to see Alfred, still wearing his extra clothes, standing there. He froze up for a second before nodding and gesturing for him to sit down. What was he doing here?

"No, no. Sit down," he said, feeling a sense of nervousness as the teen sat down. In the bar, around all those people, it had been less awkward. But here they were alone under the full moon with Alfred's eyes shining bright blue and the moonlight bouncing off of his hair. In that moment Ivan wanted nothing more to lean forward and kiss him, he looked so beautiful.

But Alfred beat him to it.

Ivan's eyes slid closed as soft lips moved over his. He tasted sweet, like candy, and smelled like the woods. His hands slid around his waist, moving down to his hips. Alfred moved into his lap, hands carding through silver hair. Ivan moved his hands lower, slowly making his way down until he was groping him. He had been expecting him to protest, to tell him to stop. But when a moan came from his partner, it was like music to his ears.

He pulled back, looking into Alfred's face. He wanted to remember this moment, to savor it. He examined every line and curve, trying to burn it into his memory. He saved the best for last, meeting his eyes only after he'd seen every other aspect. But something way off about those eyes. They didn't look like Alfred's eyes. He leaned closer, trying to see better. For long moments he couldn't quite place it, but then he saw it.

The pupils were slit.

He pushed the creature off of him, tackling it to the ground. How dare this despicable thing impersonate Alfred and try to...disgusting, horrible, vile monster.

"Oh, so you wanna play it that way? I can dig it," the creature giggled. The sound enraged Ivan and he closed his hands around its neck. He was going to kill this vile thing!

"I know what you are, fiend. Fox demon, am I correct? You seduce men and eat their livers. And you...Alfred..." Ivan growled and banged the creature's head against the ground as it choked and struggled, pulling at his hands. There were tears streaming out of the blue eyes that were so similar to Alfred's. Ivan's grip began to loosen as he almost managed to forget that it was a Kumiho he was choking and not Alfred.

In that moment the Kumiho had the opening it needed to get free, pushing Ivan off of it and running towards the forest. But Ivan was up in a flash, chasing the monster down like a linebacker. The Kumiho looked back at him, fear in its eyes as it saw how far away the edge of the forest was. It couldn't outrun the human for that long, and he was gaining fast. All this over a stupid meal!

Ivan lept, tackling the creature to the ground and pinning it there. "How dare you impersonate my companion." He growled, flipping the creature over and striking it in the face. The cry it made was high pitched and inhuman, more proof that it was not what it appeared to be. It looked up at him with Alfred's pleading eyes and for a moment Ivan almost let go again. But he wasn't letting this beast go anywhere.

"A guy's gotta eat." The creature gasped out, still struggling against the powerful grip of Ivan's large and capable hands. "I thought you would be an easy snack because I took your lover's form. You can't fault me that." It chuckled nervously, slit eyes darting around. It was desperate to find a way out, but there seemed to be no escape in sight.

"Alfred is not my lover!" He hissed, clasping his hands around the fox's neck once more. The monster choked and struggled, pulling at his hands and making those inhuman whining noises. "And I can indeed fault you that. Just like you may easily fault me for killing you after you tried to eat me." He growled, tightening his grip and closing his hands over the thing's wind pipe. Tears streamed from the Kumiho's eyes as the light there began to die.

He shut his eyes, unable to look into that face as the Kumiho gasped and struggled. He didn't want to see the light go out of those eyes, even if they weren't really Alfred's. There was no way he could do that, he would let his guard down and the creature would escape. The struggling began to die down as the creature was unable to get air into his lungs. Just before the movements stopped completely, the fox managed to rasp out with its last breath.

"I-Ivan!"

The creature disappeared in a puff of smoke, leaving Ivan to slump back into the dirt and curl up in a ball. That had been Alfred's voice, gasping his name as he died. He knew that it would be the thing haunting his nightmares from now on. But why had the Kumiho appeared as Alfred? The creature could have been anyone it wanted to, no matter how attractive. Why choose Alfred?

But, would he really have responded to anyone else? He wanted to say yes, to lie to himself and say that he wasn't becoming...fond of his companion. But that's what it was, a lie. Slowly, somehow, he'd come to care for the annoying little blonde. He wasn't in love with him, he was sure. It was infatuation, nothing more. But still, he knew that (at least for the time being) no one else would satisfy him like Alfred would.

As he headed back to the inn to get some well-earned sleep, he hatched a plan to seduce Alfred into bed with him. And judging by the display in the bar, it wouldn't be that hard. He smirked as he closed the door behind him, leaning over the sleeping boy. He didn't know what was ahead of him, poor thing. He leaned in closer, sealing his lips over Alfred's.

"You will be mine, solnyuska."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was a weird chapter with weird things happening, but I'm just going to say that the karaoke machine, while rare, is not impossible in the Dreamscape. Like people, objects from the real world sometimes find themselves in this world. Whenever you lose something, about 6 times out of 10 it's gone into the Dreamscape. That's what happens to all the socks. 
> 
> But yeah, through trading, salvaging, and luck, the bar was able to get a small generator to power their karaoke machine. Most of the alcohol is made in the Dreamscape, but they do have a small amount of luxuries like coke that they've traded for.


	6. Chapter 6

When Alfred opened his eyes the next morning, it was to the excruciating pain of the bright sun shining cheerfully through the small window just below the ceiling. He groaned and turned over on his side, flinging the blanket over his head and wishing to fucking God that the light would just go the fuck away already. In his opinion it was too early and he was too hung over for the world to be this unnaturally cheery. Why had he drunk so much last night?

He curled in on himself, his stomach heaving and his head pounding. It didn't help that his clothes were rather more stiff than normal and had somehow grown during the night. Perhaps he'd just worn the same clothing for so long that it was starting to stretch out, but that didn't account for the leather-like stiffness.

Wait…

Leather?

He paused, thinking over that assessment for just a second. With his still sleep-addled brain it took him a minute to realize that the clothes he was wearing weren't his. Not only were they not his, they were Ivan's. This wasn't fucking cool, it wasn't fucking cool at all. What was he doing wearing Ivan's clothes?

Holy fuck, what did he do last night? All he remembered is arguing with Ivan over whether he should be able to drink or not and the first few rounds after that. Everything else was a complete blank. He hadn't done anything embarrassing had he? Or worse.

He sat bolt upright, looking around frantically to see if perhaps his traveling partner was in bed with him. His heart almost stopped as he saw that the other bed lay empty, but upon checking his own bed he breathed a sigh of relief. If Ivan had been in his bed last night, he certainly hadn't stayed until his drunken comrade was awake.

Now that the immediate danger and panic was over, he allowed himself to relax. Looking around the room, he noticed that his jeans and t shirt were laying out on the chair looking washed and ready to wear. That certainly made him feel better, it would be mortifying to walk around in Ivan's clothes all day. Not only did they not fit properly, but it raised the question of what exactly he was doing in them and how to breach the subject with the Russian man.

He quickly changed out of the leather jerkin and pants and into his own jeans and t shirt, glad to have the familiar cloth covering his skin once more. It had become like a second skin to him over the days he'd been in the Dreamscape. How many days had it been? It felt like weeks to him, but he knew it had only been two days, three counting today.

"Has it really only been two days?" He said to nobody in particular as he pulled the t shirt over his head and combed his hair back down into place with his fingers. He straightened his glasses, which had gone askew while he was changing, and thought over everything that had happened since he'd come here. How could so many life-changing events be packed into such a short period of time?

He was so lost in his memories that he didn't notice someone come in, soft and silent like an owl in the night. The newcomer snuck up behind the boy, using his moment of inattention against him. The fool wouldn't even know he was here until it was too late. He unsheathed his knife and grabbed the boy, pressing it gently up against his neck, like a deadly kiss.

Alfred squawked and struggled, kicking back and trying to claw the arms wrapped around him. But they were strong and held tight, and Alfred was too taken by surprise to effectively fight back. It didn't keep him from trying. He slammed his head back, trying to dislodge the knife at his throat. He thrashed and kicked and didn't let up for a moment.

He knew he was going to die, but he wasn't going down without a fight. He slammed his elbow back as best he could, hitting empty air. But even that didn't discourage him. When one is fighting for their life, they rarely give up so easily. What finally did stop him, however, was the deep chuckle rumbling in his ear. Whoever had come to kill him was ilaughing/i at him!

"Alfred, if I were an enemy you'd be dead by now. It does not do to forget where you are, even on such a nice morning as today." Ivan chuckled, lowering the knife and letting the younger man go. He was loathe to, having quite liked that warm body being pressed against him. Even if he had been struggling for his life.

Alfred turned around, gaping at the older man like a fish that's been caught and hauled out of its home in the water and can no longer breathe. Then, without warning, he swung a punch at Ivan that hit him squarely in the jaw.

"You….you….you fucking jackass!" He hissed, eyes bright with anger. Who was this nut case to attack him and then try and tell him it was his fault for letting his mind wander for a moment. And to think he had thought about…but no, that was unimportant now.

"What right have you to come in here and attack me? Who the fuck do you think you are?" He growled, voice raising in volume as he got more and more angry. "Now get over here so I can hit you again!" He lunged at Ivan, hitting him in the middle and taking him down. Four years of Football hadn't left him without some skills, after all.

Ivan knew he should be worried that the boy had attacked him, even more worried that he'd actually managed to land a punch, but he was so high of his realization from last night that all he wanted to do was sweep the blond into his arms and kiss him.

However, there was the current problem of having the boy enraged and on top of him to deal with. He couldn't go forward with his plans if he was murdered by his lovely little Alfred. Oh yes, ihis/i. Because even if he wasn't now, he would be later. Ivan Braginsky always got what he wanted.

He grabbed Alfred around the waist and flipped them, pinning the 17-year-old to the floor and restraining his struggles. He looked down at the boy, who was pouting in the most adorably out-of-place way that Ivan couldn't help but laugh. This enraged Alfred further, causing him to struggle even more desperately.

"I am sorry, lyubov. You are just so ridiculous that I could not help but laugh." He apologized, still not letting Alfred up. It would be quite detrimental to his health should he decide against his better judgment that Alfred wouldn't take any opportunity to attack him under the current circumstances.

"Don't call me names in your fucking muk muk language!" Alfred screeched, trying to kick at the larger man. But he was firmly pinned. He tried to struggle for several more minutes, but eventually he was just too tired and his head hurt too much to fight it anymore. He just wanted to go back to bed and sleep for the rest of the day. Was that too much to ask?

"Are you quite done?" Ivan asked, waiting a moment before finally allowing Alfred up. For a few seconds he didn't get up of of the floor, simply laying there and catching his breath. Then he slowly hauled himself up, groaning as his tired muscles protested the movement.

"You're an asshole." Was all he said in response, refusing to look at Ivan. He was tired, grumpy, and wasn't in the mood to deal with this kind of shit. What he needed right now was a cup of coffee and some Tylenol.

"You may be right but that does not mean you should not take my advice to heart. I would not want to see you hurt." Almost as soon as he said it, Ivan wished he could take it back. It was true, so very true, but it wasn't something he wanted to broadcast. He looked away, blushing faintly. But Alfred was too lost in his own hangover-induced misery to notice.

"Whatever, just get me whatever passes for Tylenol in this fucked up place." Alfred grumbled, pushing Ivan half-heartedly as he stumbled over to the bed in search of his shoes and a more comfortable place to sit while the nausea passed.

"As you wish." Ivan replied, giving a mocking bow as he backed out of the room. Alfred glared and picked one of his shoes up off the ground, throwing it at his head. Ivan, his reflexes quicker now after the first attack, shut the door between him and the incoming shoe just in time to save his neck.

The laughter he could hear coming from the other side of the door made Alfred wish killing him was an option.

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By the time Ivan had fetched a cure for Alfred's hangover, bought him a few sets of clothes more accustomed to the Dreamscape than those he'd come in with, and finally got underway on the next leg of their quest morning had been and gone and the sun was high and hot in the sky.

Alfred, who really had nothing better to do and who was still feeling slightly miserable after last night's drinking and this morning's shenanigans, made soft whining sounds and let out exasperated huffs of breath every few paces.

"It's too hot!" He whined, pouting. Ivan pinched the bridge of his nose and questioned for the millionth time that day what exactly he saw in the brat. Because at this point, he wasn't even sure why he didn't just leave him in the middle of the trail and save himself the trouble.

But then he turned around to look at the boy, and was suddenly reminded exactly what he saw in him. He was utterly delicious when he was upset. He'd seen it this morning when the boy fought so dearly for his life, and he saw it again now that he was pouting with those soft pink lips.

"What are you staring at, dude? It's kinda freaky." Alfred grumbled, fidgeting and trying to inch out from under Ivan's gaze. The intensity in those violet eyes made him feel naked and defenseless and that wasn't a feeling he particularly enjoyed. Alfred liked to be in control of himself, and when Ivan looked at him like that he definitely wasn't.

"I am merely hoping that you will shut up, Alfred. Your voice is annoying me." He lied nonchalantly. Alfred narrowed his eyes and gave a small grunt, but didn't challenge the lie. How weird would it have been to accuse the guy of checking him out? He wasn't going to risk that.

"Good boy, Alfred!" Ivan mocked, pretending to be excited that the boy had listened to him as if he was teaching a puppy a new trick and had finally had some success. "You barely made a sound, I am so proud of you."

Alfred's eye twitched and he was so close to slugging the man in the face, but he clenched his fist and refrained from violence. Perhaps if he didn't fight back, Ivan would shut up himself. He wasn't in any kind of mood to be mocked or patronized by some Russian asshole.

Ivan eyed the boy, unused to this silence. It was almost unsettling to not hear his companion going on and on excitedly about anything and everything under the sun. It was more disturbing still that he wasn't talking back to him. Usually his insults got to the other more than this. He decided to drop it, realizing that it just wasn't very fun to mock the other if he wasn't going to rise to the bait.

And so they walked on in silence like that, each uncomfortable with the lack of conversation but neither willing to break the oppressive silence. It was like a dead weight weight down on each of them that they were firmly aware of, but didn't want to cast off for fear of floating away.

What finally broke the silence was not a sheepish admittance of foolishness or bad manners, but a small, grotesque looking creature standing in their path. It couldn't be more than a few inches tall and it was as ugly as sin. Alfred made a face and turned to ask Ivan what the hell it was when suddenly another showed up.

Alfred looked around, seeing several more come out of the tree cover on either side of the path, behind them and in front. The ugly little creatures were surrounding them, but what for? Certainly even a pack of these things couldn't be a threat when they were so small. All they would have to do was kick the things out of the way and make a run for it, right?

But as he moved to kick the closet one out of his way, Ivan stopped him. He shot him a warning look, scowling at the tiny creatures. "Do not move. These things are more trouble than you would think. They are spriggans, a kind of fair folk. But they usually try to lure travelers off the path, not attack them outright. Something is not right."

"What's the worst that can happen, dude? They're tiny! We can totally take this things!" He snorted, rolling his eyes. "Just kick the little bastards out of the way and be done with it." What was the fucking hold up? They were like a kajillion times the size of those ugly little bastards.

"Alfred, shut up and listen to me for just this once. Every time you do not listen you end up hurt or lost and I am telling you not to move." Ivan hissed, just about fed up with the brat. He really was more attractive with his mouth closed.

"Fine, fine. But what do you suppose we do with the-" He cut off as a tiny spear zoomed past, leaving a gash in his cheek. He cursed, touching the cut and scowling when his hand came away red. "New plan, Ivan. Step on the bitches!" He growled, punting the nearest one back into the trees.

They kicked, threw, and batted away the spriggans, but for every one they sent back into the tree line there seemed to come two more, like the heads of the Hydra. Ivan had drawn his sword, blade cutting into tiny bodies until a loose one caught hold of his arm and bit down. Alfred had no weapons that he could use in such close quarters, his bow and arrows useless. He did what he could bare-handed, but it was even less than Ivan could do disabled but with a sword.

Hope seemed lost as they neared the tree line, Alfred's heart sinking and all the fight seeming to go out of him despite his continued resistance. Ivan seemed to only fight harder, finally succeeding in throwing from him the spriggan who had impeded him. With renewed fervor he slashed at the creatures, seeming possessed or crazed. He would not allow Alfred to be driven back into the dangerous forest where he could be killed just because of some ugly little fairies. Spriggan after spriggan fell to the steel of his sword as the tide seemed to turn in their favor.

Alfred saw that the waves of creatures were starting to thin and the spirit seemed to come back to him as he grabbed a knife from Ivan's belt and began attacking himself. He slashed and stabbed with an easy grace that bespoke natural talent. If Ivan'd had time to think of it at the moment, he would have been amazed. But that was for a later time, when they were safe and on their way.

The creatures geared up for their last-ditch effort, drawing back for a moment to regroup before coming at the two like a spear trying to drive them apart. And for a moment, it worked. Alfred and Ivan were forced apart and pushed back once more to the tree line. But this time Alfred did not give up. He let the knife glide in arcs, taking out three more of the things in one slash. He stabbed and sliced and hacked his way free until all around him lay the bodies of the creatures.

His breathing was ragged and he was covered in blood both his and not, but there was a lightness in his heart; a relief so profound he wanted to look to the heavens and laugh until he cried. He looked over to Ivan, who also stood in a ring of fallen fae, grinning easily. He took shaky steps towards the other, reaching out a hand and patting him on the shoulder.

"You did good, big guy." He told him, resting his hand on Ivan's shoulder.

Ivan just smiled back at him, giving no warning before suddenly drawing Alfred into his arms. He held him tightly, never ever wanting to let him go. It seemed to him as if the experience had only made him desire Alfred all the more.

"You did well too, solnyushka." He whispered in his ear as he clutched him to his chest.

Alfred was shocked, to say the least! But slowly he drew his arms up around Ivan's waist, a smile creeping onto his face as he hugged the other man back.


	7. Chapter 7

The rising of the sun came bright and early, as Maiden Dawn crept across the sky with her multicolored dress first in cool blues and purples that then turned to pinks and oranges before burning blood red and finally fading into the bright blue of the daytime sky. It was a beautiful sight to behold and Alfred was glad for once that he had been unable to sleep.

Growing up in the city, he'd never really had a chance to just sit on a hilltop and watch the sun come up. It was a glorious experience and Alfred felt something touch his heart. Some primal instinct left in him by long forgotten ancestors was roused and to him the touch of the sun's rays was like God's own hand warm on his cheek.

The chill of the early morning had set about him, with naught to keep him warm but the embers from last night's fire still smoldering like the hearth fires of gentle and faithful women awaiting their beloved soldiers on the home front. He poked at the fire fruit fruitlessly, for they would burn no brighter without kindling. But he was tired and lethargic and the prospect of wandering about to gather wood didn't appeal to him very much.

Ivan lay not five feet from him, slumbering deeply as if the chill and the hardness of the ground they slept on bothered him not at all. But was that surprising, with all the months and years the poor soul had endured in the merciless clutches of Morpheus? Oh tortured dreamer, would that he could wake the man and save him from his misery. For though they dreamed, did they not feel the rocks beneath their backs when they slept, or the long miles travelled in waking hours? But, alas! It was not for them, the waking world. Not yet, at least.

So lost in his processes was Alfred, that he almost didn't notice when his companion began to stir. Violet eyes still dusty with sleep opened unto a new day, fresh from the dreamless slumber all those trapped in this place experienced. But without dreaming, sleep cannot truly refresh the body, the mind, or the soul; and it told plainly on the older of the two. He was only twenty four and already his face was lined with worry and pain.

"How long have you been up?" The Russian man asked, running a hand through mussed hair and giving a lion's yawn. Alfred jolted out of his thoughts and turned to the other, blinking dumbly before scrambling together his thoughts and replying.

"Oh since…well…yesterday." Alfred answered with a sheepish smile, one hand rubbing the back of his head in a nervous gesture.

"It is not good, staying up all night. You need what sleep you can get, or the way will be harder for you." Ivan said sternly, stretching as he rose to his knees to roll up his bedding.

"I know, but how am I supposed to sleep with rocks poking into my butt and creepy crawlies fricking everywhere?" He pouted, bottom lip sticking out so appealingly it was hard for the older male not to lean in and bite it. But he knew his place and knew what risks he could and could not take at the moment.

"You will learn to sleep anywhere once you have been in this nightmare world long enough. I have slept in less comfortable places during my time here. And in much worse weather. Be thankful for what you have, Alik. But then again, you strike me as someone who has never stopped to think of how much you really have." He chastised, hoping to put into perspective how easy things had been so far compared to others in the same predicament; compared to his own experiences.

"You know what, man? Screw you. I know what I got, and right now what I got is a big bag of bullshit with a heaping helping of fuck you. The universe has some big hate boner for me, I swear it!" He whined, clutching his knees close to his chest and looking petulantly out over the horizon.

"Alfred, you cannot even sleep on the ground for a night. You could not possibly have had so hard a time as that. You should, as you Americans say, 'Grow a pair'." Ivan replied nonchalantly. He couldn't explain this need to rile the boy up so, to see him flushed and alive with anger. He had no clue why he wish so much to see his eyes sparkle or his lips go red from where he bit them to keep back the nastier retorts. It was quite beyond him.

"You know what, man? Fuck you and the horse you rode in on. You're a dick and you have no idea what I have or haven't been through. I got shit in my life, same as anybody else. But you think you know everything. You think you can tell me about myself, but you can't. So get your ass up and pack your shit, 'cause we're heading out." He growled out, drawing himself up to his full height. For a second, he seemed so much older than he was. It was as if the man Alfred was to become had possessed his teenaged body for but a moment, authority and maturity hanging about him like a miasma.

"Fine, we will do as you say. But I do hope you realize that means no breakfast." Ivan sing-song'd, a triumphant smirk playing across his face as Alfred's moment of adulthood passed and the teenage boy winced.

"Well that's what you get for running your mouth, Braginsky." He shot back, sticking to his guns and refusing to acknowledge his blunder. Back straight and shoulders rigid, he slung his pack over his shoulder and faced away from Ivan.

The Russian man merely laughed and went about clearing the campsite with a bit of pep in his step uncharacteristic of him. They left behind the cold ashes of their campfire one miserable and the other happier than ever.

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Half the day they walked, until the sun was high in the sky and they could see where the tree line ended just before a small swell in the landscape that marked a ledge. Beyond that they could not see and the path before them was obscured.

But still they pressed on, neither talking to the other as Alfred clung stubbornly to silence. Ivan had tried thrice before to start up a conversation, but each time the only answering sound from his companion was the growling of his hungry stomach. Thinking back on the events of the morning, Ivan did feel a little bad; but not enough to feel any sense of regret or remorse.

"Once we clear this hill and can see the land beyond and where the path lies now that the forest has ended, we will stop for lunch. Will that redeem me in your eyes, oh fair maiden?" Ivan asked almost earnestly, save for the teasing sparkle in his eye.

"You're just cruisin' for a bruisin', aren'tcha?" Alfred scoffed, the first thing he'd said to Ivan since their departure from the campsite that morning. It was, perhaps, not the reaction Ivan had hoped for; but at least it was a reaction.

"I am on no cruise, Alik. I merely seek a way back into your good graces. Is there a cruise for that? This silence that has come between us is not enjoyable. I sought only to rile you this morning, not to make you truly angry." Ivan replied apologetically, hands held palms out to show surrender.

"Whatever." Alfred ground out, steps quickening on the path as he pulled ahead of his companion. Ivan sighed and let him be, trailing behind him at a farther and farther distance. His eyes were cast down to the ground and it was the older of the two's turn to pout petulantly.

He didn't look up again until he ran smack dab into Alfred, who had paused just as he crested the hill. Ivan looked up to see his companion's jaw slack and eyes wide as he looked out across the road ahead. The Russian turned so that he may see what Alfred saw and, in doing so, rendered himself alike to the state Alfred was in: slack-jawed and speechless.

Before them lay what looked to be the depths of Hell itself. Bright and beautiful ribbons of cherry red lava flowed over a charred landscape of volcanic rock waving out from the central point, a short but rotund volcano from which the lava wept. All around them there was no life, not a bird in the sky or a rat on the ground. Not even the buzzards dare fly over this part of the Dreamscape.

"What is this place?" Alfred asked, voice breathless with the awe that had come over him. The searing plains that their path wound through were at once great and terrible, as wild and beautiful as a lightning storm.

"We are in a part of the Dreamscape known by some as the Fields of Fire. In all my travels I have only heard of it before. Only the most skilled travelers make it out of this place alive. I've heard tell that the path leads into the volcano itself. And look!" He cried, pointing to where the path, the only part of the entire landscape not charred or liquid hot, slithered like a dusty brown snake up the side of the mountain. "The stories may yet be true. I believe it is into the mouth we go."

"I was afraid you were going to say that." Alfred groaned, head falling slack as his shoulders slumped in utter defeat. As much as he would have loved to just avoid this part of the Dreamscape altogether, it seemed that he would have to (quite literally) brave trials by fire to get home.

"I am sure it will not be half as bad as what it looks. Now come, we will eat before we continue on our way. I think we shall need it. Especially you, whose stomach growls like a dog." Ivan laughed lightly, setting his pack down.

Alfred rolled his eyes and sat down beside where he had set his own pack, looking out over the foreboding terrain. A cold, sick feeling of dream curled like a snake in his belly and he wanted more than ever to turn and run from this place.

As Ivan pulled their provisions out of his pack, Alfred felt sure that he wouldn't be able to eat even a bite. But the lack of food and long travels told on him and he ate as heartily as ever. The young, especially young men, do not often find things dreadful enough to steal away their healthy appetites.

Ivan, for his part, ate slowly and passed his time more in thought than in worry over the trials they were to face. He felt no fear, as the openness of the landscape and the dearth of cover that their enemies could take suited him just fine. He could foresee no danger until they reached the mouth of the mighty mountain.

Soon the time for food was over and the supplies were packed away and packs were taken back up as they continued on their way. The silence still pressed between them, but it seemed less crushing than before. The only thing that weighed heavily on their minds now was survival in this harsh and barren land, but still they made not a sound as they picked their way across the black waves of rock.

Ivan still disliked the silence, though he couldn't for the life of him figure out why. Only two days ago he would have been happy to never hear the boy speak again. In fact, he would have traded anything he had for the power to shut him up. But now it was as if he were starved for words, thirsty for the boy's trivial babble.

It bothered him that he disliked the silence so much. Until this blue-eyed young man came along he'd no need for words or companionship, and he didn't like that Alfred held this sort of power over him. Who was he, to cast a shadow on Ivan's mood simply by not talking? It was then he decided that the only course of action was to take that power back. He simply would refuse to be the first to break the silence.

Alfred wasn't a big fan of not talking either, but something in him kept him from speaking up. Where most people possessed a still, small voice within them telling them right from wrong, Alfred had something else entirely. The voice in his head was less like a conscience and more like a brow-beating asshole. Every action and reaction was criticized and made little of. No matter what he did, he was never good enough to make it shut up.

If you hadn't been so rash and stubborn, this never would have happened. But you had to throw a fit and now you went half the day without food and the whole of it without conversation. Great going, idiot.

The voice was right, it was always right. He'd been stupid and now he and Ivan weren't talking to each other. He seemed to sag visibly as the weight crushed down on him. But what to do? He couldn't merely speak up and say something, he was in far too deep for that. Ivan probably already thought he was an idiot. Why go and prove him right by being the first to break the silence?

And so they travelled on, not a word spoken between them as they picked their way down the path to the foot of the volcano. Every once in awhile one or the other would look over and seem, for a moment, to be on the verge of speaking. But every time they would look back, still intent on not being the one to yield first.

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Alfred's breath came in slightly labored pants as the two of them scaled the slope of the volcano. He had always thought himself fit, in good shape considering his diet and internet addiction. But when faced with the reality of miles of hiking every day, he had been forced to confront the fact that his lungs were as weak as a new born babe's.

Ivan, for his part, seemed to fare much better. While his breathing was harder now on this uphill slope than on the level path through the forest, he showed hardly any signs of tiring. However, Alfred couldn't help but notice the self-satisfied smirk gracing his features. That rat bastard was somehow getting sick pleasure from the trouble he was having, he was sure of it.

"Do you wish to stop, Alik?" Ivan asked, a sing-song quality in his voice that denoted his gratification by means of Alfred's woes. "If you are too weak to go on, that is. Do not feel bad, you are young and spoiled. It is not surprising that you cannot travel far on foot." He patronized. It may occur to the reader that his behaviors resembled greatly those of a boy who, not knowing how to address their affection for a classmate, will torment the object of their longing. I believe the term is 'Pulling pigtails.'

"I understand if you want to stop," Alfred panted, shooting a glare at his fellow Pilgrim. "But don't pin it on me." He adjusted his pack with a shrug of his shoulders and pulled ahead of Ivan. There was no way he was going to admit that he was tired, not now after what that bastard had tried to pull.

"I have to say, solynushka, I am impressed with your fortitude. I did not expect you to get this far without begging for a meal break." Ivan gleefully doled out the back-handed compliment with seeming alacrity. In truth, the more weary Alfred became, the less fun insulting him was. There just wasn't the same fire in his eyes as when he was well-rested.

"What can I say, man. I'm just all sorts of fortified." Alfred ground out, really starting to get annoyed at the other. Why couldn't he just keep that pretty mouth of his shut? "Now, if you would kindly shut the fuck up, I'd like to reach the top of this thing before nightfall. This place gives me the heebie-jeebies." He hissed with a shudder, looking over his shoulder as if something was following him.

"It is only now that you are having these heebie-jeebies, whatever they are? This place is no different from the forest, save that we can actually see our enemies coming." Ivan scoffed, rolling his eyes at Alfred's antics. Such a child, that one. Though he was one to talk, with the schoolboy way he tormented his crush.

"No, man. This place is way different from the forest. That place is confusing and scary, but also pretty and alive. This place…it's just downright sinister." He murmured, still casting glances about to make sure they weren't being followed. It seemed that every time he swept his gaze over the landscape around them, something moved at the corners of his eyes.

"Alfred, you are being a paranoid child. There is nothing here that is any more dangerous than what was in the forest. And if you keep jumping at your own shadow, you will give yourself a heart-attack before we are even clear of this place." Ivan jeered. He had no time for Alfred's strange behaviors and fears. He had not survived out here so long by letting every single thing scare him.

Alfred, for his part, didn't say anything. He still got the feeling that they were being watched, but the more Ivan spoke the more he made sense and it all seemed like a figment of his paranoid and overactive imagination. By the time Ivan had finished speaking, Alfred had gone completely silent and the jumpiness that had marked his movements in the moments leading up to the present had dissipated almost entirely.

Perhaps Ivan was right and he was just being silly. Surely there was danger here, same as there was danger in any other part of the Dreamscape, but what exactly about this danger made it any greater? Perhaps it was the landscape itself. It was so barren and devoid of life, it seemed to him as if they were the only breathing entities within a hundred miles. It was unsettling and off-putting to say the least.

Or perhaps it was that on-going feeling that they were being watched. Despite the reason and logic overpowering the fog of fear and panic that had gripped his mind not moments earlier, he still couldn't shake the feeling that they were not alone. And not in the broad sense that there was life on other planets. There was someone, or something, that was watching them. He was absolutely sure of it.

He thought of voicing these concerns to Ivan, letting him know that he wasn't comfortable and that they should keep watch for anything suspicious. He had even gone so far as to look back at him with lips parted, all geared up to spill his fears to the man who had just been mocking them. But that voice in his head (that was beginning to sound just a little like Ivan's, though not in his stilted vernacular) spoke up.

You are a fool, boy. You really think he's going to listen to you after the show you put on? He's going to think you're just a scared little kid who can't handle the pressure and he's going to dump your ass at the nearest crossroads and be done with you. And it's probably nothing, anyway. You're working yourself into a frenzy over nothing and you're going to bother the one person who knows what the fuck they're doing with your stupid little paranoid delusions. Good luck with that.

Alfred paused for a moment before closing his mouth and turning away from Ivan once more, a pained look in his eyes as he resolved to keep his big mouth shut.

He looked away just in time to miss the shadowy figure dart from one rock formation to another, unnoticed by the weary travelers.

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Darkness had descended upon them, not gradually so that they barely noticed as in the forest, but quick and sudden as if it had always been dark and they had just never noticed until now. The rim of the great volcano was in sight, they could feel the heat of the magma in the air around them and see the glow of it on the clouds above. It was beautiful in a wild and terrible way, the might of Mother Nature being one of her most attractive features.

Alfred was the first to come to the lip of Gaia's great cauldron and the sight stopped him in his tracks. Some deep part of him, the most primal part set there to warn man off the Devil's domain, was paralyzed as Hell itself seemed to open up in a yawn and threaten to swallow him whole. For the first time in years, Alfred feared for his eternal soul.

Ivan, however, scanned over the wrath of God with seemingly bored eyes. To him, this was no more than the means to an end. To be true, this was a magnificent and awesome display of Nature's might and he would be ever cautious around the burning lava, but it instilled no fear of God in him. Nor did it invoke any sense of eternal damnation.

"Lord Almighty, would you look at that!" Al breathed, blue eyes wide and reflecting back the red flowers of the fiery pit. "It's like looking through the Earth and into Hell."

Ivan rolled his eyes and snorted. "Alfred, this is no more Hell than I am Satan." He scoffed. "This is much more dangerous than any imaginary underworld." He shook his head, disappointed that his companion didn't have the sense to see past the lies taught by the church.

"Oh fuck, you're an atheist! Aren't you?" Alfred groaned, rolling his eyes Heavenward and regretting even starting this conversation. He hated arguing with Atheists, he really did. Great, you don't believe in God. We get it, shut up already!

"As a matter of fact, yes. I have the common sense to realize that religion is merely a bizarre human ritual that the species has long since outgrown." Ivan sniffed, setting down his pack in a spot that seemed as good as any to settle for the night. As he rolled out his bedroll, he couldn't help the spark of satisfaction that ignited when Alfred tensed. This was going to be a fun discussion.

But Ivan's hopes for a debate were squashed as Alfred took a deep breath and let the tension go. "Have you ever stopped to think that maybe some of us have considered the possibility that this is all just a bunch of stories, and still don't care?" He asked, taking off his glasses and cleaning them on his shirt. He needed something to do with his hands, lest they lash out against his will and strike the other.

"That only makes you more foolish. It is one thing to be ignorant, even willfully so, but it is another ting entirely to know that what you believe is wrong and still go on believing it. Why lash yourself to the mast of a sinking ship? The more we learn of the world, the less sense religion makes." Ivan laughed curtly.

"Says the guy trapped in a magical dream world where anything can happen and the land itself doesn't even stay still." Alfred scoffed, giving Ivan a sidelong glance. "And besides, sometimes it's better to believe. Sometimes knowing in your heart instead of your mind that there's something bigger than you, someone watching out for you, makes things a little easier." Alfred quipped.

"I am certain there are ample scientific explanations for our situation if there were ample tests run." Ivan pouted, crossing his arms and looking away. "And how does the belief in a distant and vengeful spirit that has unlimited power and has been known to destroy whole cities make things any easier?" At this he turned back to Alfred with a brow raised.

"God's not just the vengeful merciless killing machine you hear about in the Old Testament. He loves us, all of us. And maybe He can't always interfere, because it's not part of His plan, but He's got our best interests at heart. Even if He's not real, the thought of someone having your back is comforting." Alfred replied with a brow of his own raised in return.

"So you change your God to suit your needs, da? He is kind and loving when tending his flock, but if you wrong him he will wipe you off the face of the Earth or turn you into salt? And all your God seems to do is hate, according to your Holy men. Gays, Jews, Arabs, Communists, Facists, Minorites, politicians, celebrities. Anyone who claims to believe in your God seems to use him to further hate and ignorance." He growled, eyes blazing.

But Alfred cut him off with a raised hand. "I'm not going to argue with you about this. Because you're confusing God with the idiots that think they know what He wants. And even if you were attacking God, I still wouldn't argue with you because you can prove God doesn't exist as easily as I can prove He does. Which is pretty much not easily at all." He sighed, rolling his eyes.

Ivan opened his mouth as if to speak, but Alfred shushed him and turned away to get a campfire started with some of the wood he had brought in his bag from the forest. Ivan let his mouth closed again and sulked as he worked side-by-side with Alfred to set up the campsite.

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Sunlight streamed as ribbons through the window as the world rose in the early morning. Ivan could smell from downstairs his sister Katya's cooking, the only thing truly able to rouse him from his bed before noon. Despite the warmth of the blankets, the way the pillows and mattress seemed perfectly plump, and the sleep still clinging to the corners of his consciousness he rose and shuffled down the stairs with a drowsy yawn._

_The stairs seemed daunting in his post-slumber haze, so he opted instead to slide down the banister. He couldn't help the small grin that grew on his face as he sped down the incline, hopping off just before the railing ended. More than once he'd failed to get off in time and whacked his hip bone on the ball at the end of the railing. Not an experience he wanted to repeat if he could help it._

_He trundled into the kitchen, kissing Natalia's cheek as he passed the girl. She must have been much too absorbed in her cell phone, because she didn't acknowledge him at all. He disregarded it and turned away, sidling up beside his older sister to see what was for breakfast. He was thrilled to see blini cooking merrily on the stovetop. They were by far his favorite breakfast food, especially the ones filled with strawberries._

_"Dobre utra, sestra." He greeted, planting a kiss on her cheek as he had on their younger sister's._

_Katya didn't say anything, she didn't even turn. Ivan was deeply confused, usually his sisters would greet him enthusiastically with hugs and kisses to his cheek. But it was as if they didn't even realize he was in the room. All of a sudden he felt cold and lonely, as if he were thousands of miles away from them._

_"Sestra? I said good morning." He tried again, placing a hand gently on his older sister's shoulder. She turned to him then, but something in her expression chilled him to the bone. Her eyes were blank and cold, her smile distant. It was as if she was possessed, or otherwise deprived of her usual spark. The thing that made Katya Katya was gone._

_"Why did you kill me, brother?" She asked, her usually sweet and soft voice hard and hollow. Ivan gawped at her, appalled by her accusation._

_"Katya, what are you talking about?" He asked, dismayed that his beloved sister would even say such a thing._

_"Why did you kill me, Ivan?" She repeated. With a flash of light the world went white, disorienting Ivan. But slowly the color came back and they were in a forest that seemed so familiar. Ah, yes. The Dreamscape. He'd never truly been back home with his sisters at all. It had all been a clever trick._

_And he knew this place, knew it well. This was where Alfred had nearly launched himself off the cliff. This was where…_

_Oh no._

_"You killed me, brother. You cleaved my head in two. By your hands I am dead." She giggled a bit, voice still hollow and cold. It sent chills throughout Ivan's entire body._

_"No! Katya, I didn't! It was a Leshi, not you! I did not kill you!" He asked beseechingly, trying to make her understand. But she looked on him with those cold eyes and he knew that she heard none of it._

_Suddenly, another figure appeared from behind the rocks. Alfred was unmistakable, even in this topsy-turvy world. He reached out to him with a sigh of relief, more glad to see him than ever before._

_"Tell her, Alfred. Tell her I did not kill her!" He begged, grabbing onto Alfred's arm and pulling him over to where the pair of siblings stood. But one look into those horribly blank blue eyes and he knew that Alfred would not defend him._

_"Ivan, why did you kill me?" He asked, his eyes seeming sad though they were still devoid of life. Ivan's heart ached, because he could not bring himself to look at the pair any longer._

_"I'm sorry! It wasn't my fault! I had to!" He pleaded with them, voice growing tight and eyes beginning to tear up. "I'm sorry!" He rasped, falling to his knees. A single teardrop splattered into the dust as Ivan hung his head._

_When he looked back up, Katya's head was hewn in twain and her blood-curdling screams sounded like a death bell in his ears. Alfred struggled for breath, his face turning blue as the life drained out of him slowly. And over his sisters screams, he heard a barely audible, pain-filled gasp._

_"Ivan!"_

_"Ivan!"_

_"Ivan"_

"IVAN!"

At the last call of his name, Ivan shot up from his slumber like a gunshot, looking around the campsite frantically for the source of the call. The last one, out of all of them, was most definitely not in his dreams.

What he saw stopped his heart and the bottom dropped out of his stomach. Four figures stood in the immediate distance. Two of them were unadorned, pitch black beings of great ugliness; imps that seemed to reinforce Alfred's insistence that this place was as Hell on Earth, if they were even on Earth. The next was an imp as well, but costumed in tatted black robes smattered with what Ivan could only assume was blood. It had a necklace of skulls of various shapes, sizes, and species about its neck and a long staff in one hand.

The fourth figure was Alfred, bound and being carried off to the very edge of the volcano. In less than a minute, he would be thrown in.

Ivan grabbed his sword where it lay beside him and dashed aside the covers of his bedroll. In less than the time it takes to blink, Ivan was up and sprinting towards the group. His heart pounded a cadence of fear in his chest and his insides seemed to twist like live snakes. Would this be the day he lost Alfred? It couldn't be, not after everything said and even more that hadn't been.

The imp in the ceremonial garb turned from the group, hitting Ivan with a face full of hate and revulsion. If looks could kill, it would be a battle to the death between the human and the demon.

"Guard the virgin sacrifice. I will take care of its companion." The lead imp hissed to the others, rocketing forward to meet Ivan. The ring of metal on metal issued out as Ivan drew his sword and it whistled through the air, speeding towards the imp's head.

"You will not have him!" Ivan growled as his blow was parried by the imp's staff, the blade biting into the wood but not cutting it asunder. They stood there for long moments, a battle of strength between the two that it seemed neither could win. Out of the corner of his eye he could see the two remaining creatures dragging his companion further towards the ledge.

He disengaged the imp, jumping back from any attack that might come as he wrenched his sword from the wooden grip of the staff. He stepped once more towards the demon, swinging his sword swiftly and powerfully at the thing's head. But his strike did not fly true and the weapon whistled over the imp's head.

Alfred, by this time, was right at the precipice above the boiling magma in the fiery heart of the mountain. He had managed to once more rid himself of the gag put in place by the imps dragging him and he drew a deep breath in preparation for one last desperate cry for help.

"Ivan!" He called, the cry agonizing and terrified. He didn't want to die. Not now, not like this. He hadn't gotten a chance to apologize, he hadn't even had an opportunity to tell him…But it wasn't important right now. If he wanted a chance at all, he would have to get out of this mess. He struggled against his bonds, but he seemed only to draw them tighter and all the while he was coming closer and closer to the edge.

Ivan heard the cry and something in his snapped like a twig. How dare these vile beasts come upon them in the night and attempt to make a sacrifice of his Alfred? Did they think they could accost whomever they wished without consequence? They had definitely messed with the wrong set of travelers.

Like a berserker of old gone mad with battle rage, Ivan hefted his sword and with a mighty cry he brought it down upon the head of the imp priest. The blow hit home and the thing's head split open like an overripe melon with a satisfyingly wet thud. Ivan's eyes blazed with hate and the heat of battle as he left the carcass where it dropped and sprinted off in the direction of the two remaining imps.

The first one was caught unawares, having been attempting to reapply the gag and avoid Alfred's snapping teeth at the same time. He ran his sword through its back, striking through its shriveled, black heart and staining his weapon with even more sticky black blood. The second one barely had time to let out a terrified scream before its head was removed completely from its shoulders and rolled off the precipice and into the lava below.

As the imps dies, their grip on their captive slipped and he tumbled to the ground. Ivan reached for him, but his hand caught only air as the boy rolled off the edge. Ivan's whole world stopped in that moment and nothing seemed quite real. He didn't breathe, his heart did not beat, and his ears heard not a sound. And then, in a snap, everything seemed to come back and a scream tore itself from his throat.

"Alfred!" He cried, rushing to the edge with a heavy heart. But what he saw there was miraculous and astonishing. Somehow, the ropes binding Alfred's hands had caught on an outcropping of rock and the young man swung there like a pendulum. But he was alive and safe and Ivan's heart was suddenly as light as air. If he was any less stout of character, he would have broken down into happy tears at the sight.

"Think you could pull me up, big guy?" Alfred chuckled, a nervous grin on his face. "It's kinda hot down here."

Ivan nodded dumbly and took hold of Alfred's arms, hauling him up out of harm's way and into his own strong arms. He clung to Alfred like driftwood on a stormy sea for long moments, and Alfred clung back just as desperately.

"I am so sorry for what I have said, Alik. I meant none of it. You are not a woman, and you are no fool. And I regret our silence. I have gotten used to a lack of conversation during my long incarceration here, but I still do not like it when you do not talk to me." He said, placing a warm hand on the top of Alfred's head.

"Dude, don't. It was my fault, so really don't mention it. I was a stubborn little kid and I think we both just need to put this whole stupid day behind us. What do you say?" He asked, grabbing Ivan's wrist but making no move to guide his hand away.

"I think there is one part of this day I found very interesting." Ivan said with a saccharine smile Alfred wasn't sure he liked.

"And what would that be?" He asked warily, eyes narrowing.

"What was that I heard the imp say about a virgin sacrifice?" He asked, smile darkening into a toothy smirk. Alfred's whole face went beet red and he yanked Ivan's hand off of his head.

"Shut up! That's none of your business!" He squeaked, scowling.

Ivan's laughter could be heard ringing through the Fields of Fire for miles around.


	8. Chapter 8

After their run-in with the imps, Ivan insisted a guard rotation had to be agreed upon to protect (Alfred) the both of them. Of course, with two people as stubborn as Ivan and Alfred were, an argument was guaranteed to break out over who would stand guard first, both wanting to let the other sleep. Eventually, Ivan convinced Alfred that it would be for the best if he took the first watch, and promised the boy he would wake him when it was time for his shift. After a few more choice words of protest, Alfred went to sleep, secure in the knowledge that Ivan would wake him when the time came, trusting him completely.

Of course, once Alfred was fast asleep, Ivan simply struck up his pipe and sat down to wait for morning. There was no way he was going to wake the boy up, not after what he'd been through. To be kidnapped by demons while Ivan was sleeping and nearly fall into a volcano was possibly the most stressful thing Ivan could think of at the moment, and it was clear that the younger of the two would need all the sleep he could get to shake off that trauma.

Ivan felt the guilt wash over him. Guilt that he hadn't woken up as the imps crept up on them, or at Alfred's first cry for help, and guilt over the killing of the Kumiho and the Leshi, who wore Alfred's face and screamed in his sister's voice. He knew that it was an illusion meant to throw him off-kilter and open him up to attack, but that was what was so beautiful about the predation methods of these creatures. They worked.

He set the thought aside, knowing that if he continued to pursue it there would be no going back. Too many painful memories, and joyful ones, too, turned painful by the long absence of his sisters. It was better not to think about the past in this place. It was almost as tricky as the landscape itself.

He watched over his companion as he slept, reaching out tentatively to brush back soft golden strands from his smooth forehead. He looked so young and innocent as he slept, as cliché as that sounded. Ivan sighed and felt his own forehead, knowing that he was probably starting to develop premature frown lines there from his harrowing time within the Dreamscape. It didn't matter, of course. This wasn't his physical body and he doubted highly his actual corporeal form had the capacity to exhibit every facial expression he made while trapped here in this stinking hell-hole.

For an instant, though, his vanity took a hold of him and he wondered if Alfred thought of him as an older adult. He was only 7 years older than the boy, but that was quite the significant gap at this age. Especially if Ivan was starting to wrinkle, as he feared. He was already in a position of authority over the boy as his guide through the Dreamscape, and the only one in their merry band with any knowledge of the place whatsoever. It wouldn't be a leap for the boy to imagine him as a teacher, mentor, or even elder-brotherly type. Which, of course, would spell disaster for his efforts to woo him.

He shook the thoughts away, chalking them up to plain old vanity and a lack of socialization in the last four years. Meeting an attractive man significantly younger than oneself certainly did nothing for one's self-image. Especially when the young man was as vibrant and youthful as Alfred was, as full of light and life as the sun itself. He couldn't bring himself to be envious, however. After all, should his seduction plan work he would be the one reaping the benefits of Alfred's youth and beauty. A small smirk at that thought and he let the matter drop.

He spent the entirety of the night in thought, skipping from topic to topic. He would ponder the meaning of life, wonder why they had become trapped here, what his sisters were doing right at that moment, and if he would ever have a bag of Doritos ever again. The topic he came back to time and time again was Alfred, always Alfred. The boy filled his thoughts, taking up every corner of his mind and overwhelming him.

What about the boy turned his head so badly that he could barely take a breath without thinking about him? Usually when he spent late nights awake it was out of loneliness or an ache in his heart for his sisters and their shared apartment in Chicago. Even, sometimes, for their childhood home in Novosibirsk. Now those topics were as far from his mind most times as the three body equation. Alfred consumed him like fire, burning in his very soul.

He swallowed thickly, trying to push away the feelings. Surely he couldn't have developed an attachment that strong in such a short time? Ivan wasn't one to believe in love at first site and he definitely hadn't ever experienced it. Even with Alfred he hadn't been all that interested the first time they'd met. Why then? The boy hadn't done anything to warrant Ivan's fascination. He brought trouble with him wherever he went.

So why? Why him, why now? He'd met more attractive people both here and in the waking world, people more compatible with his personality, who enjoyed the same things and liked their peace and quiet. Why the loud, annoying blonde who caused nothing but trouble and would get both of them killed if he didn't start to use his pretty little head for more than just a storage space for dust?

Maybe it was the difference he found so compelling. Alfred was so alive and happy and bright. Even at his most playful, Ivan had always been a much more serious person than Alfred seemed to be. Serious about his studies, his love life and home life, taking care of his sisters, everything had always seemed of the utmost importance to him. Maybe a little spontaneity was exactly what he needed in his life, a little sunshine. He thought back on Alfred's insistence of drunken karaoke and realized he hadn't had that much fun since his parents died, even before he'd been trapped here. Yes, Alfred might be exactly the light he needed in his life.

He watched as the dark black of the sky lightened to a charred gray as the sun rose behind the clouds of volcanic ash that blotted out any real light. He hadn't meant to spend the whole night thinking about Alfred. He'd wanted to devise a plan should one of them ever be accosted while the other slept again. Alfred, though, seemed a much more pleasant topic to ponder. He looked down to find that the contents of his pipe had burned themselves out and turned to ash long ago, unheeded by their owner. He sighed and tapped the instrument on his knee, upending the bowl and dumping the light gray ash onto the charred, black ground.

Alfred would be waking up soon, if the slight stirring coming from his sleeping companion was anything to go by. Who knew how long he'd been up? The lightening of the sky may have signaled dawn, but with how thick and dark the cloud cover was it could be noon for all he knew. He sighed again and rubbed at his face, almost regretting his choice to spend the whole night on watch duty. Almost.

He began packing up the miscellaneous items strewn about their campsite, even taking the trash they'd made and putting it in a pile to toss into the volcano. They couldn't risk leaving a trail behind them, leading anything that would seek to prey on them right to where they lay sleeping and defenseless.

Apparently, despite treading carefully in an attempt not to wake the boy, Ivan's busywork hadn't been quite silent enough, and Alfred's eyes blinked open. It took Ivan's breath away for a moment, how blue those eyes were. He could imagine them in the morning sunlight, groggy and half-lidded from sleep as they were now, but sparkling so brightly. If only it wasn't so damn dark in this hellish place!

Alfred rubbed at his eyes, the sleep dust crumbling away and the dark circles that had begun to form under his eyes since he'd become trapped here becoming even more apparent with his eyes open. Frankly, he looked like death warmed over. Not that there were any mirrors around for him to figure that out on his own and to Ivan, who had been isolated for four years, he looked like an angel.

"You didn't wake me up." It was a statement, rather than a question, that came from Alfred as soon as he had wits enough about him to register that the sky was lighter than when he'd fallen asleep and Ivan looked wholly unrested. A small frown was the only sign that he was less than pleased and Ivan chose to ignore it completely. In the back of his mind, Alfred had known the second he caved into Ivan's watch routine that he would be sleeping through the night.

"Nyet, I didn't." Ivan responded, continuing his bustling about their camp, making it seem as if they'd never been there. It was a simple answer to a question that hadn't really been asked. Neither poked into it further, the young man simply hoisting himself off of the ground and doing his best to help Ivan pack up. It was the least he could do considering he had slept through the night while Ivan had stood guard.

Ivan quirked a small, fleeting smile as the younger man did his best to help despite the fact that Ivan's task had already almost been complete by the time the boy woke up. He allowed him the satisfaction of scraping the remnants from their fire and their trash pile into the volcano as he checked their packs one last time. He took inventory of everything they had, despite having a working list in his mind. It was always good to know if anything had gone missing or if he'd forgotten that they'd used or lost something.

Flint and tinder? Check. Non-perishable food items? Check. Change of clothes for the both of them? Check. Pipe and tobacco? Check and check. Water? Che-

Ivan blinked, looking again at the space where the water should be. His brow furrowed and a frown tugged at his lips as he rummaged again through both of the backpacks. He always stored half of their water in his own pack and half in Alfred's so that if they were separated they'd both still have something to drink. However, upon inspection, something seemed to have taken all of the water out of Alfred's pack, but left the bottles in his own.

He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose and trying to think of a solution. He looked down the path, twisting into the heart of the volcano. With temperatures that high and a walk that steep, they would need all the water they could carry. Now they would have to make the trip with half the water they normally had for everyday walking. They would have been lucky to make it to the other side with a full supply.

Taking the water from his own pack and placing it in Alfred's, he made up his mind not to tell his young companion. It would only cause him to worry and the last thing he needed was a panicked teenager sweating bullets and losing water faster than they could replenish it. It was bad enough that Ivan himself knew about their decided disadvantage. At least he was more experienced and knew how to handle it.

He straightened up, cracking his back and beckoning Alfred back from the edge of the volcano. "Come, Alik, we have much ground to cover today." He called, swinging his own pack onto his back and holding out the other for Alfred to hold. The boy trotted over and took it up, looking to Ivan for further direction. Normally Alfred was the leader of any group he was in, immediately taking charge and coming up with a plan of action. But Ivan had proved again and again that he knew what to do way better than Alfred probably ever would. He looked up to him, admired his expertise, and followed him without question.

This, of course, stroked Ivan's ego very pleasantly and if he hadn't known that they had a long, tiring, waterless journey ahead of them he might have stopped for a moment to indulge himself. As it were, he merely gave a nod to the boy and took off at a controlled pace down over the lip of the volcano and into its molten heart. Too fast and they would tire out before they reached their journey's end, too slow and they would run out of water well before they were free of the volcano's heat. It would be difficult to time this.

Alfred followed, watching Ivan closely for signs of fatigue. He resented the fact that Ivan had let him sleep despite knowing he had done it out of a misguided attempt at protecting him. It not only made him feel like Ivan didn't trust him to have his back, but he knew that a tired Ivan wouldn't fare well on the grueling journey into the depths of this hellish fire mountain. Part of his concern was selfish, he couldn't survive without Ivan after all, but the majority of it stemmed from the fact that he really did care about the big, Russian jerk-off.

However, despite watching him like a hawk for the first 20 minutes of their journey, Alfred couldn't see any signs of the man slowing down or even tiring. Maybe he was just used to not sleeping, or maybe he was some sort of wizard with sleep powers or something. Fears assuaged (for now), Alfred let the concern slip out of his mind as he turned his attention to the steep, treacherous path laid out before his feet.

The incline of the path had turned dangerously steep and at times they had to walk sideways with ginger steps to avoid slipping. More than once Alfred, wearing converse that threatened to melt off of his feet as the rock of the trail heated up the closer they got to their destination, actually did slip and was only kept from tumbling down the path and possibly into the lava by Ivan catching him. When this happened Alfred would stay there as long as possible, only a few fleeting moments, basking in how Ivan's strong arms clasped him almost tenderly. Before he could think too hard about that, he would blush heavily and launch himself out of Ivan's arms and a few feet back up the trail without so much as a thanks. But to Ivan, the flustered flush on his face was thanks enough.

Alfred swallowed thickly as the heat grew more intense, the glow of the lava casting eerie shadows on his face. Ivan's face was similarly lit from below, making him look gaunt and as pale as death itself. Alfred trembled slightly at the imposing figure his companion cut, knowing that in the normal light of day he was already intimidatingly tall and covered in lean muscle built surviving in the forest. He wondered for a moment what Ivan had looked like before he'd come here, what he'd looked like as a child. He couldn't imagine Ivan any younger than he was now, not matter how hard he tried. To him, Ivan would always be the lean woodsman who had rescued him. He could never have been a rosy-cheeked toddler with wide purple eyes and an easy smile. Even if he had been a child once, and Alfred was convinced he hadn't, he would have been a serious, pragmatic one.

Finally, as the path began to level out a bit, Alfred swung his pack off of his shoulder and grabbed one of the bottles of water, delighted to see that they hadn't somehow evaporated during their trek. He took a few quick gulps, gasping in relief and holding the bottle out to Ivan. The other man merely gave him a small smile and shook his head, putting one hand up to indicate that he didn't want any. Alfred shrugged and stuck the bottle in a side pocket of his backpack, figuring Ivan had already delved into his own supply.

Ivan's own throat was dry, his mouth parched and the water looking like a gift from heaven. But he couldn't take it, not when they still couldn't see the exit and with only those three measly bottles for the whole trip. He would take a drink when they were free from this place. Provided, of course, that there was any water to be found where they were going. He pushed the thought aside, thinking only of keeping Alfred comfortable and, more importantly, alive.

They kept going in this way, Alfred offering Ivan a drink each time he took one and Ivan refusing the offer every time. The younger man grew more and more suspicious with each passing exchange, his eyes narrowing, and searching Ivan's face. He didn't know why, but there was something off in that enigmatic way his companion smiled, something that made his gut churn and his heart clench. He began watching Ivan again, eyes trained on his face in an attempt to discern what was wrong.

Ivan could feel the boy's eyes on him, boring holes into his back. He let out a small sigh, praying silently to no one in particular that Alfred would drop it. He couldn't let him see how parched he was, how he would kill for a drink of the water Alfred was so smart to conserve but so stupid to offer to him. If Alfred knew what he was doing, what he was risking for him, he would never be able to live with himself or with Ivan. So the next time Alfred offered him a drink, watching him with blue hawk eyes, he gave a smile he didn't feel and took the drink.

The feeling of the water, warm though it was, slipping down his throat was like a chorus of angels heralding the second coming of Christ. Still, he forced himself to take only a small amount before passing the bottle back to Alfred. He ran a dry tongue over cracking lips, nearly whimpering at the loss of the liquid. He hid it well, though, and Alfred merely flashed him a heart-melting smile and stuck the bottle back into the sack.

They went along like this for a long time, Alfred taking sips from time to time with Ivan refusing up until the point Alfred became suspicious and then assuaging his fears by taking a drink. Still, with so much water being lost to sweat from the heat and exertion and so little being taken back in, the Russian began to pale and slow down. His vision blurred and his thoughts wandered. The only one he could hold onto was the thought that he must keep Alfred safe and alive at all costs. It drove him on, long past the point where he'd begun to stumble.

Alfred watched with worried eyes as Ivan began to trip over his own feet, having to catch the larger man more than once. A sinking dread filled his heart as he saw that they were on the last bottle of water and he knew-he just knew- that Ivan hadn't been drinking the ones out of his own pack. As it dawned on him that there was no water in Ivan's pack, he let out a choked sob. He wrenched the remaining bottle out of his pack, turning to give it to Ivan to make him drink the whole damn thing, but it was too late.

Ivan crumpled, mind going dark as unconsciousness overtook him and he fell into a dead faint. His skin was pale and stretched over his skin like raw hide. Alfred panicked, trying to get him to drink some of the water in the bottle, but couldn't get him to swallow it without coughing it back up as it went down the wrong way. He looked around, eyes bright and wild, hoping against all hope that somehow, somewhere, there was a stream or a pond. He'd even take a puddle at this point.

He didn't find a source of water, only the rising heat of the lava and the hot rock surrounding them. What he did spot, however, was the cave the path led into. A choked exclamation of relief and the young man lifted the large male onto his shoulders in a fireman's carry. His knees nearly buckled under Ivan's weight, young muscles not used to carrying the weight of a grown man, but soldiered on. He knew that if he couldn't get Ivan out of this heat soon, he would die. His skin was hot to the touch, his breathing was labored, and nothing the younger boy did would wake him up.

He stumbled blindly towards the cave, nearly slipping off of the edge twice. His heart raced in his chest and he felt like his entire body was being gripped by an invisible vice. Panic and adrenaline were the only things keeping him going as he finally stumbled into the cave. The temperature didn't drop at first and Alfred cried out in despair, thinking that there was no hope and they would just stumble through into another volcano. But as he made his way as quickly as possible through the passageway, the temperature started to plummet.

Finally, Alfred's knees gave out and he sank to the ground, rolling Ivan off of him less than gracefully. He took a moment to lay on the cool floor of the cave, basking in the damp cold that felt so refreshing on his overheated skin. If he felt like this, he could only imagine how horrible Ivan felt. Realizing this, he jumped to his feet, making sure Ivan was resting in a comfortable position before trying to get him to swallow some of the water again.

He guided the taller man's head into his lap, brushing his silver hair away from his damp forehead and smiling sadly. He could see it now, as the older man lay there so still and deceptively peaceful. He could visualize so clearly what he must have looked like as a teenager, as a child. A single tear rolled down his face as he brought the bottle up to dry, cracked lips and slid some of the warm water past them. This time, with a little coaxing, the man swallowed it and Alfred let out a tearful laugh as he continued to help him drink the water little by little.

Too soon the tepid water was gone and Alfred had nothing more to give Ivan, who was still hot and whose mouth was still as dry as the desert. Panic set in again and he knew he needed to find more water, cool water, before it was too late. He swallowed thickly, ignoring his own thirst, and looked around. He couldn't see any source of water; he couldn't even see the exit or the entrance they had come from. But he could hear something: the trickling sound of water flowing somewhere in the distance.

Without thinking he leapt up, heart pounding a cadence of urgency in his ears. He left Ivan where he was, hoping that the cool of the cave would leech out some of the heat in his skin, as he searched frantically for the source of the water. He felt along the walls, blind to how far he was getting from his companion's prone body, desperate and unthinking.

Without warning, his hand shot into the darkness and he let out a triumphant yell as he sprinted down the side passage towards the sound of running water. The only thought running through his mind was 'Please let Ivan live. Please, please!' His train of thought was so narrow and all-consuming that he didn't know he'd reached the underground spring until he splashed right into it at full-speed. The water seeped into his clothing and gathered about his legs, freezing-cold and crisp. He sighed in relief and took out the empty bottles from his pack, filling them one by one.

Happy now that he'd gathered the water they so desperately needed, he hurried along back up the passageway, jeans heavy with water and feet squishing around in his half-burnt converse. His heart felt light and he was certain that everything would be alright once he reached Ivan. He would douse him in one bottle and make him drink the rest and his companion would live. There was just one problem.

The mouth of the passageway was sealed.

The bottom of Alfred's stomach dropped out and he let out an inhuman wail of pure, unbridled despair as fat, glistening tears started to roll down his cheeks. He had been in such a hurry to get water for Ivan that he had forgotten the first rule of the Dreamscape: Anything you lose sight of will change as soon as you pass it by. In running off to gather the life-saving water, he'd left his only friend alone, dying, and possibly miles away or in another part of the Dreamscape entirely.

Anger welled up in him and he clenched his teeth, not believing he could be so fucking stupid. He shoved the bottles back into his pack with more force than was necessary and glared daggers at the wall of rock blocking him off from where there once was a path. This was just a ploy by whoever was running this bullshit show, wasn't it? The pathway had only appeared because the powers that be wanted to separate the two of them. It just wasn't fair!

He screamed out in a blind rage, pounding his fist into the solid rock. "Let me out, you bastards! You fucking let me out of here! He's going to die without me, you stupid fucks! Let me go! I swear to God I'll fucking hunt you down and murder you with my bare hands if he dies!" He screamed, punctuating each cry with a fist against the rock. By the time he sank to the ground, sobbing uncontrollably, his knuckles were bloody and torn. He couldn't even feel the physical pain of his shredded hands over the pain in his heart.

He leaned against the wall, clutching at it desperately as his tears fell onto the rock. "Please…please just let me see him one more time. Just once, please. I can't…I never…" He took a deep, shuddering breath. "I never got to tell him that…that I was falling in love with him." He whispered, knowing that no one could hear him, not even Ivan.

As the American boy sobbed and shook against the wall of rock, something amazing began to happen. With every tear that hit the rock, it began to dissolve. Faster and faster, the tears ate through like acid until Alfred, who had been unaware that this was going on, fell through to the other side as the wall finally vanished into thin air, as if it hadn't ever been there in the first place.

Alfred blinked, eyes still red and stinging and tears still flowing down his face. It hit him, then, that whatever had been keeping him from Ivan had had a change of heart. A gasp was all he could let out as he saw Ivan's figure still on the floor where he had left him, cloaked in shadow, with only the rise and fall of his chest to indicate that he was any different than the surrounding rock.

The blonde jumped up, rushing to Ivan and falling to his knees beside him. He bit his bottom lip to keep it from trembling and desperately tried to fight the already mighty flow of tears streaming down his face. He wasn't attractive when he cried and he knew it. His face turned blotchy and red, his eyes became bloodshot, and snot ran freely from his nose. But he could barely care right now. He was with Ivan again by some miracle and he would make sure the other man lived.

He grabbed the bottles out of his bag, stripping Ivan of his shirt with a burning purpose and an equally burning blush. The teenager poured the water carefully over the Russian man's head, chest, and arms, hoping to cool him a little. He smiled softly as Ivan stirred, just a bit, and took his damp head into his lap once again. Slowly and carefully Alfred made him drink, heart fluttering with every little noise and movement his still-unconscious companion made.

He couldn't help the tiny brushes of his fingers over Ivan's still-hot skin, or through his damp hair. He'd almost lost him today and if nothing else, it made him appreciate what he had more than ever. Not just a guide through the Dreamscape, a surly acquaintance, or even a friend. To him, Ivan was everything. When he had thought, for those agonizing few minutes, that he had lost him forever…it was worse than losing his mother to her coma. There was nothing he wouldn't give to have his mom back, but he knew he would die without Ivan.

He bent down, not caring that Ivan was still knocked out, that his lips were dry and cracked, or that the gesture might not be welcome, and pressed their lips together softly. He couldn't give less of a shit about anything other than the fact that Ivan was alive, that they were together. As he pulled back, he pressed his fingers to his lips. He knew that, no matter what happened or how Ivan felt about him, he would cherish that chaste brush of their lips for the rest of his life.

"Why did you pull away?" Came the raspy, heavily-accented voice from the floor of the passageway. Alfred's face immediately lit up both in absolute joy that Ivan had woken up, and in a furious blush that he'd been caught.

"Ivan! You're okay! Oh man…you don't even know, man. I thought you were a goner for sure, man!" He babbled, hugging him tightly about the neck. Ivan chuckled, the sound coming out whispery and hoarse. His throat still felt dry and it ached like it was stabbed with tiny knives down the whole thing, but he couldn't help it. Alfred was just so happy, happier than he'd ever seen him. An absent sort of smile crossed his lips and he reached up weakly to brush his fingers through Alfred's hair.

"I heard…in my dreams, I heard you shouting. I know it sounds odd, but in my heart I also know it was real. I heard you whisper, too…" He whispered, voice unable to get any louder for the moment. Alfred's face, if it was possible, became even redder. "I heard you say…I heard you say you loved me."

Alfred choked, looking everywhere but at Ivan. Yes, he'd said that, but he didn't really need to admit it to Ivan, did he? After all, it could have just been a fever dream. He didn't believe it, of course, not after what had happened in that side-passage. But it would be easy to dismiss Ivan's claims.

Then again, he'd already been caught kissing him and with Alfred's lack of control over his facial expressions, Ivan would know he was lying. So Alfred swallowed thickly and nodded, looking down at his torn hands and willing the furious red of his face to at least dim down a bit. He couldn't believe it had come to this, that Ivan had to find out this way. He had always imagined his first declaration of love to be more traditional, more romantic. But then, what was more romantic than the person you loved hearing your words over space and time as they were dying?

Ivan smiled then, curling his hand around the back of Alfred's head and pushing him down to meet his lips. His heart pounded in his chest and his blood rushed through his veins in a way he hadn't felt since he was a young teenager and he'd shared his first kiss with a girl whose name he'd forgotten years ago.

Alfred melted into the kiss, lips working clumsily against Ivan's cracked ones. He'd never once, in all his years, imagined that his first real kiss would be like this: On the floor of a cave with a man 7 years his senior in a nightmare world in which they were both trapped. In fact, if anyone had told him that's where he'd get his first kiss, he'd have laughed them all the way to the loony bin. But here he was, locking lips with someone he really, truly though he could eventually fall in love with and there was nothing he would do, nothing he would trade, to change anything about it.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, this is the actual new chapter, rather than a repost from FF.net. I really hope you like it! And for anyone who's been reading on FF.net, I'm really sorry for the wait. College has been killing my will to do anything up homework and sleep.

Alfred didn’t know how long they’d stayed there on that cave floor, kissing and making sure Ivan had enough to drink. It wasn’t like they could move very far considering how weak Ivan was. And with their water supply dwindling and Alfred being thirsty himself, it wasn’t as if he could carry him out of the cave, however long it was.

Before long, though, they did have to move. Alfred didn’t want to chance leaving Ivan here and going back for water, not knowing if the same trick would work twice. To be separated again after that would kill him. But they couldn’t very well just continue down a tunnel that could very well stretch on for a hundred miles with no water. Instead, Alfred slung Ivan’s arm over his shoulder and helped him down the small tunnel he’d ran down to get to the water in the first place. 

He really shouldn’t have expected it to be there once he left, but they arrived to find the underground river just as Alfred had left it, crisp and cold and clear. It seemed a little wider and deeper than Alfred remembered it, but he hadn’t actually been paying much attention the first time and wouldn’t be surprised if it was just a trick of his mind rather than the magic of the Dreamscape working for them for once instead of against them. 

He laid Ivan down by the river, pressing a kiss to his forehead and taking the water bottles, filling them back up with water from the river. This time, though, without the threat of Ivan’s death hanging over him, Alfred took his time. Ivan wasn’t the only one who was parched and hot and Alfred saw this as the perfect opportunity to wash the dirt, grime, and stink of travel off. He stripped down to his boxers and waded into the water, sighing as the river water flowed around him, cooling heated skin.

He scrubbed himself pink with sand from the bottom, sloughing off the dirt and dead skin that had accumulated in his travels. Even in the inn he hadn’t felt quite this clean. He’d taken showers in the real world that didn’t leave him feeling as satisfied. Once he was clean, he drank from the river until his stomach felt distended with water before trudging out with the filled water bottles and coming over to Ivan, helping him drink until he, too, was too full to drink anymore before helping him bathe in the river as well. 

Once their needs were taken care of, Alfred lit a fire and explored their new nest. It was too narrow and shallow for enemies to be lurking in the corners, the cave only widening out once it hit the river, and for the first time in a long time he felt safe. That probably wasn’t very smart of him, as the Dreamscape had many perils that he hadn’t learned of yet that could be lurking in the cave without his knowledge. But for the moment, the two of them were alone and safe to rest.

There was a canoe, too, resting on the rocky bank of the river. It was a sturdy vessel with no holes and two more water skins inside, which Alfred emptied out, washed thoroughly, and filled back up. Even if the way they had come in was sealed, there was a way out, following the river on its path through the mountains. All in all, they couldn’t have asked for a better place to rest for a few hours or a day while Ivan recuperated. 

Alfred himself was just plumb exhausted, so he couldn’t even imagine how Ivan must feel. The man’s skin, while not as sheet white and clammy as it had been when he’d collapsed, certainly didn’t have a healthy level of color to it. And the cave was so cool and comforting that his eyelids were already starting to droop. He tried to muster up the willpower to get up, move around, and keep from falling asleep. But sleep dragged at him with nimble, clawing fingers, soft and wispy like ethereal bits of cloth he couldn’t see, wrapping him up in a foggy haze of half-waking sleep…

~.-.~.-.~.-.~.-.~.-.~.-.~.-.~.-.~

Alfred woke up with a start a few hours later, though he had no way of telling how many. He panicked at first, looking around to see what had woken him, what was attacking. But there was nothing there. Just him, Ivan, and the boat. He let out a relieved sigh and shook his head at his own stupidity. He was so used to constantly having to be on the lookout now that his brain couldn’t even process the thought that they were safe for the time being. How had things gotten so bad so quickly? He had been in here, what? A week? Less? He couldn’t even remember how long it had been. It felt like an eternity.

He ran a slightly shaky hand through his hair, inhaling and exhaling a deep breath in an attempt to calm himself. How much therapy would this little trip cost him? Probably a shit ton. He sighed and collapsed back spread-eagle, looking up at the roof of the cave. He almost wished that they could stay here forever. It was safe, they had water. They didn’t have any food, though, and that was the problem. Unless the river had fish in it, but Alfred had learned better than to trust the rivers here.

The river…

Shit! That’s what had felt wrong when he woke up! He had felt so safe here because he couldn’t see any enemies lurking in the shadows of the cave, but he’d completely forgotten about the river! He jumped up, grabbing the bow up from where he’d laid it near his pack and notching an arrow, looking wildly around.

Still no enemies.

He let out a shaky breath and relaxed the bow, putting the arrow back in the quiver. Shit, he’d gone and gotten himself in a panic again. The only living beings in the cave large enough to pose a threat to him and Ivan were him and Ivan. He was being ridiculous, he knew, but he was just so on edge. Any minute now he expected something to surge up from beneath the languidly moving river and attack them, but minute after minute passed in peace, the water still flowing peacefully by. 

Somehow, the thought that they might actually be safe unsettled him more than knowing they were sharing the cave with unspeakable horrors. He’d learned the hard way that no corner of this strange nightmare land was truly safe and not having any clear and present dangers was wearing on his nerves. 

He looked over to where Ivan laid, his complexion back to its normal smooth paleness. It occurred to him that he’d never seen the man shave and even now, looking at him, he couldn’t see any hint of stubble. Even Alfred, at 17, was starting to look a bit scruffy. It made him look a lot younger than he was, especially when he was sleeping. He didn’t look innocent, Ivan wasn’t a man for meaningless clichés, but he looked like…well, like a kid caught up in something way over his head. And as hard as it was for Alfred to think of Ivan as a kid, he was only 24. That wasn’t really all that old at all. In the waking world, he’d barely be out of college, if he even was. He had his whole life ahead of him and all he had to look forward to was a hard life of running and barely scraping by. That was no way to live. 

Neither was this, jumping at his own shadow and nearly having a heart attack every time a mouse scurried across the floor of the cave. He felt worse than a coward, a child afraid of monsters under his bed. He felt pathetic and wretched and so very, very lost. He curled in on himself and hugged his knees, thinking about when he was little and had a nightmare and how his parents would hug him and kiss his forehead and tell him that everything would be alright. What he wouldn’t give for a warm glass of hot cocoa and a hug from his mom and dad. 

Thinking about his dad made a hot ball of shame condense in the pit of his stomach. What must he think? To have to wake up and find his son in a coma when his wife still wasted away in the hospital? He could only be devastated. Matthew didn’t really have friends and most of his family was back in Canada, out of reach for physical support. Without Alfred, how was he getting on?

His eyes began to burn, imagining his dad waking up the morning after he got stuck in this place to find him comatose, just like his mother. His dad was a religious man, but it wasn’t in him to blame God, so he’d blame himself, wondering what he’d done to bring this curse down on his family. How long did they have until he gave up hope? 

Searing hot tears welled up in his eyes, burning him as the coursed down his cheeks. What had they done to deserve this? Was it because he was gay? He hadn’t really paid any attention up until now to the people proselytizing about how being gay was a mortal sin, but what if they were right and this was all his fault?

Ivan awoke to the sounds of soft sobbing, as if someone was attempting to control themselves, but failing miserably. His brow furrowed and a frown crossed his face as he tried to sit up, wincing at the aches and pains in them. He was absolutely parched; his mouth felt like the endless deserts he’d seen travelling through the Dreamscape. But more important than any of that were the sounds of sobbing. It could only be Alfred and Ivan felt somewhat responsible for the boy, especially if he was going to foster the boy’s crush and coax it into something deeper. 

He crawled over the cave floor, ignoring the aches in every muscle and joint that begged him to stop and rest. But he powered through it, laying a hang on Alfred’s shoulder and squeezing in a manner that he was pretty sure was reassuring. It had been too long since he’d had contact with another human being, even longer since he’d had to offer support. He’d almost forgotten how.

“Are you okay?” He asked, his voice softer than either of them was used to hearing it. He had a split second to register a quick shake of the boy’s head before the kid had jumped into his arms and buried his face in his chest, sobbing. He caught one word in three, only able to discern the vague idea that Alfred was homesick. It happened to the best of people, Ivan wasn’t surprised. He wished he had someone there to hold him that first year, when the homesickness had been the worst. 

“Shhh, dorogoi, everything’s going to be okay.” He reassured him gently, petting the back of his head and rocking him gently. He couldn’t blame the boy for his tears. How many nights in those first few months had he cried himself to sleep? The fact that it had taken Alfred this long to break down was commendable. 

“It’s not going to be okay, Ivan! We’re never going to get out of here!” Alfred hissed, pulling away slightly, but not fully leaving the security of Ivan’s arms. And even if we do, then what? Months or years of waking up in a cold sweat, constantly looking over our shoulders, wondering? The constant, nagging fear that when you go to sleep, the next time you won’t wake up? Having such a traumatic event happen to you and not even be able to talk about it with anyone?” He felt so lost, at the end of his rope and dangling above a viper’s den.

“Hey now, don’t talk like that.” Ivan chastised firmly, holding the boy close, trying to drive his fears away with the sheer power of human contact. “We’re going to get out of here, you hear me?” He bored holes into Alfred’s eyes, the younger man staring into his face like a deer caught in the headlights at the intensity of the stare. There was so much violent conviction in that statement that Alfred began to think that Ivan was trying to convince himself just as much as he was Alfred. 

“I’m scared, Ivan. Scared that I’ll never get home, that my friends will move on without me, scared for my dad, scared that I won’t find my mom, scared of my own damn shadow. I’m so tired of being afraid but I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to feel safe again.” He sighed heavily, emotionally and physically exhausted. He looked ragged, dark circles under his eyes and his usually tan, glowing skin waxy and pale in the light from their fire. 

Ivan really didn’t know what to say. Everything that came to mind seemed hollow and meaningless. Maybe it had been too long and he didn’t know how to deal with the alien feelings of a normal person who hadn’t spent years isolated and on the run every day from unspeakable horrors reserved for nightmares and horror flicks. Failing at words, Ivan just hugged Alfred again, bringing him back up against his chest, the boy’s blonde head tucked up under his chin comfortably. 

Having Alfred crying in his arms was awkward for Ivan, but in the same way it was awkward to comfort his sister when she would cry, or how he felt awkward as a teenager talking to guys he liked. It was a human kind of natural awkward feeling that he hadn’t felt in a long, long time; the kind of awkward that can only come from real human interaction. 

It took the younger man long minutes to calm down, still shaking slightly with silent tears rolling down his cheeks. He looked more drawn than normal and his whole face was a red, blotchy mess. Ivan didn’t care, he still thought the boy was one of the most beautiful people he’d ever seen. Though whether that was because he hadn’t seen very many people in the last four years or not, that was another matter.

When Alfred was finally calm enough to pull away, it was Ivan who needed more contact. But this was Alfred’s moment and Ivan would have other chances soon. So he let the boy slip out of his arms, a soft, sad smile on both of their faces as they remembered their homes. It was so close, physically. In the real world each of them was laying less than 10 miles from their homes and families. But physical distance meant nothing when your consciousness was trapped in this nightmare realm.

“Are you okay now?” Ivan asked, a heavy, comforting hand still on his shoulder. Alfred nodded and tried for another smile, not quite getting this one to stick. Ivan sighed and pressed a kiss to the top of the boy’s head, knowing there wasn’t much else he could do.

“So what do we do now?” Alfred asked, his voice raspy and soft, strained from the crying. He wiped his eyes, red and puffy, and tried to calm himself the rest of the way. He hated crying, he hated crying in front of people even more, but he was trapped in a nightmare world, constantly chased by monsters, and the last 24 hours had somehow been even more stressful, if that was possible. 

“I suppose the only thing left to do now that we are well-rested and stocked with water. We have a boat and a river and not much else. I say we find where the river goes and see what happens and plan from there.” Ivan shrugged, letting Alfred go and strolling over to the boat to check it out.

The vessel seemed sound enough, made of good, solid wood with no holes in the bottom and two strong oars in the dry bottom. It was a small, light craft for all that it was sturdily built. Ivan had faith in the little boat, so long as the river didn’t get too quick or rocky. 

“Gather everything up and get in the boat.” Ivan told him, pointing to where their belongings were piled. Alfred grabbed everything, packing it up and making sure all of their water containers were completely full before packing it all in the boat and climbing in. 

Ivan nodded at him and gave the boat a push, grunting as it scraped against the rocky riverbank before sliding into the water. The river moved deceptively fast and Ivan almost missed his chance to jump in. If he hadn’t spent the last four years running for his life, he might not have made it. But he landed gracefully in the middle of the boat, balancing himself quickly and taking his seat. 

He didn’t like how fast the boat was going. The river must be deep for the surface to be so deceptively sluggish. And if it was quick here, he didn’t like their chances of running into rapids down here. As the darkness swallowed them, a frown flitted across his face.

The pitch black darkness flared into light almost too quickly for his eyes as Alfred lit a torch and held it up. They had no other source of light and without the torch they could easily crash and sink. Ivan took the oars as Alfred lit the way. He didn’t have to row, but they were useful in guiding the little boat away from the hard rock walls and nudging it around the gentle turns.

He prayed that navigation remained so easy as this, but as he scanned the darkness in front of them as every new inch of water and rock emerged from the shadows, he refused to hold his breath. One turn a fraction too sharp or one spray of rocks too jagged and close to the surface and he wasn’t sure how their little vessel would hold up.

The torch like shimmered off of slick, wet walls and the damp, moldy smell wafted out of the bowels of the earth. It was earthy and old, a river that perhaps had never even seen the light of day. Down here anything could be lurking around the corner. But as each successive corner came, there was nothing.

“Is it just me, or does something seem dreadfully wrong here?” Alfred asked, holding the torch aloft and trying to illuminate more of the river. Though the light danced and played across the rippling, twisting swirls of water gathered around their canoe, nothing else could be seen. “It’s almost as if it’s too quiet, you know?” He grunted suspiciously.

Ivan nodded, a sick sense of dread setting his whole body to tingling, itching in a strange, metaphysical way that grated on his last nerve. How far had things come that peace and quiet was more disconcerting to him than constant danger. “I had my suspicions back in the cave when we found ourselves blessedly alone. This is getting ridiculous now.”

Alfred nodded absently, suspicious eyes scanning the darkness. A flash of light caught his eye and he swiveled his head to catch it. But it was gone as quick as it came and Alfred’s unease was not lessened one bit. 

Another flash and Ivan was the one turning now to try to catch a glimpse of whatever it was. It came and went in a flash, too quick for their eyes, and they were thwarted once more. A sense of malaise gripped the tiny boat and it was all they could do to keep from whirling at every dance of the torch’s light on the river.

The flashes came more frequently now, here and gone in the blink of an eye. Never did they linger long enough for the two young men to discern what they were, but the flashes increased and increased until whole swaths of the wall were sparkling like the night sky. 

Suddenly the boat lurched and Alfred nearly fell forward, the torch nearly falling out of his hand as the river picked up its pace, the rocks beneath the surface of the water shooting up to jar their little vessel. Ivan did was he could, trying to steer the boat through the increasingly rapid river and succeeding only in avoiding the biggest opportunities for disaster.

The boat lurched again, slamming against the wall of the cave and sending Alfred sprawling into the bottom of the boat and sending the torch flying over the edge of the boat into the water, hissing as it was extinguished. 

Alfred cursed and rubbed his head, eyes shut tight against the pain. It was only at Ivan’s low curse and tugging at his pant leg that Alfred opened them back up. They popped wide open, nearly coming out of his skull. 

He had expected pitch black without the torch, but without its light his eyes were open to the soft, ambient glow all around them, an eerie glowing blue dotting the walls of the cave like so many thousands of stars. It was a wonderful and humbling sight as the cave opened up and let them into what seemed an impossibly large chamber and it became clear what the specks were.

Huge, glowing diamonds hung from the ceiling and jutted out from the walls, towering and immense and so incredibly beautiful that Alfred and Ivan’s hearts beat once in unison before pausing for a few beats and returning to normal. 

They were so taken with the dazzling sight before them that it didn’t even register that something was off about the whole picture. The depth of the room and the breadth of it seemed to grate on each other somewhere, not quite fitting where everything was supposed to go. 

The river, seemingly, had calmed down now, widening out to spread over the whole cave. It seemed unimportant, however, in the light of those glowing diamonds as Ivan reached for Alfred’s hand, another beat of their hearts synching as their skin touched. 

Alfred thought at first that the roaring he heard in his ears was his own rushing blood as Ivan gazed into his eyes and he gazed back, transfixed by how purple Ivan’s eyes were. It was impossible, wasn’t it, for eyes to be that color? Everything about Ivan seemed impossible and yet here he was…

The roaring hadn’t stopped, even when Alfred’s heart had stopped beating in his throat and Ivan had looked away. For a few moments, it still didn’t compute, but when it clicked, a sick sense of mortal dread came over him. 

“Ivan….Ivan do you hear that?” He asked, panic in his voice. Ivan began to shake his head, but stopped as he heard it too, knitting his brow and looking ahead. He cursed sharply and slammed his fist into the side of the canoe.  
In true shitty movie fashion, they were headed for a waterfall. 

Alfred cursed then, too, having held out hope to the very last that Ivan would tell him that it was all in his head, that the roaring in his ears was just from the way Ivan had been looking at him. “Fuck…” He groaned, and “Fuck!” again as he kicked the side of the canoe, nearly falling out of the boat. “What the hell are we supposed to do!?” He groaned, sinking to the seat and cradling his head in his hands. 

Ivan didn’t know how to answer. He looked around frantically for any escape, but none seemed available. It was his job to protect Alfred and all he had done for the past 24 hours was fail. He’d allowed him to be taken by the imps and only by providence able to save him. He’d collapsed and forced Alfred to carry him through the volcano’s heat, and lay helpless and passed out on the floor of the cave while Alfred had worked to revive him. 

He’d never felt so lost and helpless before, not even when he’d first woken up in this terrible, awful place. He’d spent so many lonely, helpless nights here and still he’d never felt this wretched. He could deal with his own death, but the thought that he hadn’t been able to save Alfred ate at him and they weren’t even dead yet.

While Ivan had been staring off into space bemoaning their fate, Alfred had sprung into action, digging through their packs to see what they had. Most of it was absolutely useless and wouldn’t help them one bit. But he found a rope, a large tarp, and hope. It was a long shot, but it was their only chance and Alfred was going to take it.

He thanked God he’d paid attention in Boy Scouts and started tying the rope to the ends of the tarp, fashioning a sort of harness. The idea was to make a parachute of sorts, something to slow their descent. He wasn’t a physics wiz or anything, but he figured if they were going to die, it was better to at least try than give up. 

“Ivan!” He called, throwing the contraption to the other man. “Put this on! We’re gonna try parachuting down!” He shouted over the ever-growing roar of the water. Ivan stood dumbly for a moment, wondering when this strong, smart young man had replaced the helpless, foolish youth he’d first met in the woods. Alfred shouted his name again and he fumbled into action, his hands feeling stupid and useless. 

“Okay! Now when we start going over the edge, I want you to jump!” Alfred called, balancing in the middle of the boat and trying to get closer to Ivan. “I’ll hang on to your back and we’ll see if we can’t save our sorry asses!” He grinned at this and though Ivan found it wholly inappropriate, he couldn’t help but grin back. 

They approached the edge of the water, both of their hearts pounding in their throats as they made peace with the fact that they might die. Ivan took a deep breath, turned around, and swept Alfred up into a desperate goodbye kiss, ending it much too soon. 

Alfred wrapped himself around Ivan just as he shouted the ready and screwed his eyes shut, gasping as he felt the boat slip out from underneath him. This time, when a pulse went through the both of them in perfect unison, he felt it, his chest pressed to Ivan’s back. 

His eyes flung open and his breath left him in a rush; half because of that strange, whole feeling the beat of their hearts had given him and half because they were maybe a hundred feet in the air, dangling from their makeshift parachute. 

His plan had worked. They weren’t going to die.

He let out an excited whoop and hugged Ivan excitedly from behind. They were going to live! His harebrained scheme had actually fucking worked! “Take that, Mr. Zwingli! I’m a physics MASTER!” Alfred cried in joy. “I just made physics my bitch!”

Ivan, however, was silent, concentrating on how to get them down safely. They were dropping a little faster that he would have liked and his only two options were to land in the water—and who knew what was in there— or on the jagged spines of the rocky outcroppings surrounding the lake. 

“Alfred, I would not celebrate just yet.” He warned, voice gruff and face a mask of concentration and grim pragmatism. “I will have to set us down in the lake and I do not know what is down there. Whatever happens, we have to be ready to swim or fight, perhaps both.” 

All the joy deflated out of the younger man and he nodded grimly, having forgotten for a moment that everything in this world was dangerous and even here, suspended in the air, they were not safe. “Man, I was really hoping to catch a break there for a second. But I guess our luck ran out after finding that damned cave.” He sighed, scowling down at the dark water with the blue light of the diamonds shining back up off the surface. 

Alfred took a knife out of Ivan’s waistband, bracing for impact and cutting the parachute away. They dropped like stones after that, hitting the water with a splash. He let go of Ivan and cleared the parachute, popping up to the surface as few feet away from the tarp. Ivan popped up beside him a few seconds later.

They nodded to each other and took off for the nearest store, wanting to get out of the water as quickly as possible. Ivan, still tired from his ordeal, lagged behind, weighed down by his pack and heavy boots. Alfred swam back to help him, but that only slowed both of them down. 

Alfred felt something brush against his leg and his blood ran cold. He tried to tell himself it was just a fish and kept going, slowly helping Ivan along. They were in sight of the shore, now, but it would still be a while before they would get there, if Ivan could make it at all. 

Another quick brush of something across his leg and Alfred yelped, a cold, heavy stone of dread dropping into his stomach. “Ivan…please tell me it’s just a fish that keeps touching me.” He whimpered, holding him a little more desperately. 

Ivan didn’t say anything. He wasn’t a liar, and reassuring Alfred that it was nothing would only lull him into a false sense of security. He turned to say something to Alfred, but promptly forgot it when he saw the look on the boy’s face. His eyes were wide and his jaw slack with the kind of absolute fright he’d only seen on him when he was cornered by the spider. 

He didn’t even have time to ask him what was wrong before he felt a tug at his pack and was suddenly pulled under the surface, the black waters of the lake filling his mouth and nose. He tried to swim up or turn around to defend himself, but whatever it was was much too strong. He saw the dazzling light of the diamonds start to fade as he got pulled farther and farther from the surface and the corners of his vision started to go dark from lack of oxygen. 

Alfred had only been able to watch in amazement and terror as the giant tentacle had reared out of the water and snatched Ivan down into the murky depths of the lake, but that didn’t mean that he would stay up there while his companion’s life was in danger. He dove, glad for the weight of his pack to drag him down quicker than he could have gone himself. 

He swam deeper and deeper into the lake, the glow of the diamonds embedded in the walls replaced with a similar glow down below where even larger stones jutted up from the bottom. In the dim light, he could see only shadows twisting and darting this way and that, but no sign of any monster big enough to be attached to that tentacle. 

He swam, searching the bottom for anything, anything at all that could house such a beast. He spotted a cave, the outside littered with bones of fish, animals, and even humans. If anywhere could house a monstrosity like the one that had taken Ivan, this was it.

He took off for the cave, his lungs burning and threatening to give out if they didn’t get air soon. They felt full to bursting and yet empty at the same time. His vision began to blur as he passed through the darkest part of the cave, swimming towards a bright blue light at the end. His thoughts started to jumble and his vision began to go dark as he saw the shimmering surface of the water, hope giving him the strength he needed to breach it, gasping in air like a dying man drinking in water in a desert. 

Panting, a stitch in his side and his lungs still burning, he looked around in awe at the chamber he’d come up in. The light here was brighter because the walls, rather than being diamond-studded, were made completely up of the glowing, precious stones. They hung down from the ceiling, jutted up from the floor, and the rocky little stretch of shore lining the water was a sparkling mass of the stones that had been worn smooth by the gentle lap of the lake. 

It was breathtakingly beautiful and for a moment, Alfred forgot why he’d come here in the first place. But as a figure slumped on the floor of the cave moved, he remembered and dragged himself up onto the shore, running to Ivan. The man was unconscious and white in the face, but he was breathing softly and his pulse was strong. He sent up a quick prayer of thanks and pressed a kiss to his forehead. 

He looked around, praying that there was a way to get Ivan out of here without having to lug the unconscious man up through the water. The cave extended back in two tunnels to either side, but he had no way of knowing where they led or what was lurking beyond. 

He turned back to Ivan, slapping his face and shaking him. But whatever he did, Ivan wouldn’t wake up. He kept trying, knowing that every moment they spent here was another moment in which the creature could sneak up on them. He had no way to defend them if that happened and he couldn’t drag Ivan to safety until he woke up. 

“Ivan, you big idiot, wake up!” He hissed, afraid to speak too loudly. He shook him again, frowning. This was starting to get really, really frustrating. “Ivan! Wake up!” He growled lowly, shaking him and then slapping him on the face again. But it was no use, the Russian man just wasn’t going to wake up. He would have to sit here with him, vulnerable, until he deigned to wake up on his own.  
While Alfred muttered to himself and tended to Ivan, the sound of something slithering across the floor of the cave failed to register with Alfred, who had let his guard down in a moment of frustration. The hissing grew louder as the hulking tentacles of the beast slunk out of both sides of the twin caves. As they neared Alfred and Ivan, one appendage reared up as if to strike, casting a shadow over Alfred and making him turn, his eyes going wide with fear as he clutched Ivan’s hand. 

He didn’t know what made him pick up one of the diamonds littering the floor, but as he did, he felt the same pulse he had going off the edge of the waterfall, the feeling radiating from their clasped hands. He could feel some sort of buoying force, lifting up his soul and filling him with a sense of confidence as he threw the gem, glowing brighter now than any other in the room, at the tentacle. 

There was a flash of light as it connected with the thing and then a huge bang as the diamond and tentacle exploded, showering the cave and the two guys with stinking, disgusting guts. That, finally, is what woke Ivan up as the rest of the tentacles flailed wildly and began to attack. 

Not pausing for a second, Alfred scooped up another one and, following his instincts, blew softly on it and tossed it in the air, a shield of blue light surrounding them. Somehow, he just knew how to use the diamonds to his advantage. The blue light stopped the tentacles right in their tracks and Alfred took Ivan and retreated back towards the water, scooping up two handfuls of diamonds and shoving them into one of the bags on his belt. 

The blue light shield followed them as they descended into the water, protecting them from both the tentacles and the water. Even as they submerged themselves completely, they remained within a dry bubble of air. 

The tentacle monster continued to attack, the blue shield beginning to weaken. If they didn’t get out of their soon, the water was going to sweep in and they would be at the mercy of the beast. Alfred took out another diamond and held it to the one suspended in the air and shouted, “Go!”, the diamonds both glowing and the bubble zipping impossibly fast down through the submerged part of the cave and up out of the lake. 

They hung, suspended in their bubble 100 feet above the lake where the monster couldn’t reach them, as high as the top of the waterfall. Alfred knew it wouldn’t last much longer, the diamonds keeping them up were starting to lose power, he could feel it. 

He took the largest gem he’d managed to grab and powered it up, desperately putting so much energy into it that when he was done, he felt weak and drained. Then he dispelled the shield and threw it down into the lake as they fell, only barely managing to grab another stone and slow their descent before his efforts would have come too late. 

The larger gem dropped straight into the writing mass of tentacles and exploded, the beast giving a great, soul-shattering scream as it was blown to pieces, the appendages writhing as they sunk back beneath the surface of the lake. 

Alfred and Ivan were still descending, as slow as a feather floating down to earth. He tried to steer them towards the shore, but it was hard and he was tired and the best he managed to do was to put them down in the water near the only real shore the lake had, where Ivan’s pack had come off when the monster grabbed him. Ivan took the pack and re-shouldered it, the two of them starting the swim towards dry land. 

They didn’t speak as they mounted the beach, both of them exhausted and drained for different reasons. Ivan stole a few perplexed glances at Alfred, but that’s all. A strange air hung between them, but neither of them was alert enough to try and dispel it. 

Alfred pointed to a shelf sticking out of the wall that would be difficult to get to, but would protect them once they got there. Ivan nodded and started the trudge up there, clambering up tiredly with Alfred close behind. 

When they reached the shelf, Alfred huffed and groaned, grumbling about wet packs and the lack of blankets and dry clothing. Ivan, slightly smug, just pulled out a waterproof plastic bag packed with a dry blanket and three sets of dry clothing to change into. Alfred scowled at him, but thanked him and took one of the too big sets of clothing, just glad to have something warm and dry to wear. 

As they curled up against one another under the blanket, Ivan studied Alfred’s face. It was disconcerting for the younger man, but he didn’t look away, meeting Ivan’s eyes and staying there. 

“What happened?” Ivan asked at length, searching Alfred’s face for any hint of discomfort about the subject, finding none.

“I really don’t know.” The boy shrugged. “I’ve been feeling these weird pulses the entire time we’ve been in here at random intervals. And then when we were being attacked, I felt a really big one and suddenly, I knew what to do.” 

Ivan merely nodded, accepting it as a strange, mysterious fact. “Horosho.” He said simply, dropping the subject and wrapping his arms around his younger companion and falling easily asleep. Alfred tried to follow him, but as tired as he was, it took him a good amount of reflecting and discomfort to finally fall into a fitful sleep in Ivan’s arms.


End file.
